


Bloom

by chayron



Category: Kyou Kara Maou!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-02
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2018-02-19 15:41:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 56
Words: 253,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2393888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chayron/pseuds/chayron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With Yuuri’s upcoming birthday, Wolfram makes his decision. Where will it lead him and what is to become of them?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Kyou Kara Maou! – It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I’m not making any money from writing it.  
> Warnings: yaoi (male x male), violence, swearing, angst, drama. Wolfram-centric, out of character, original character. Should eventually be Yuuri x Wolfram
> 
> A/N 1: Yuuri – 18 years old. Wolfram – 20.  
> A/N 2: Greta doesn’t exist.  
> A/N 3: European/American/Japanese standards all at once depending on the plot requirements.  
> A/N 4: The tendency to ignore the anime/manga and supplement the story with my own imagined facts.   
> A/N 5: Season III is not taken into consideration, except for the fact that Wolfram’s uncle exists.  
> A/N 6: The umlaut in Gunter’s name is a bother.

**Bloom**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by HARPG0 and chris’cut

Part 1

Wolfram was sitting on a patch of freshly mown grass along the fence which separated the stables from the training yard. He was watching his soldiers honing their skills. Behind him, on the other side of the fence, men were gentling their horses. Wolfram could hear shod hooves hitting the ground, clinking against occasional stones on their way.

The blond had already done his share of training and now was having a break. He was also waiting for his king to finish his duties and come down into the yard for a ride on his new horse. The tame mare had been chosen by Conrart, who knew that Yuuri was not very skilled in horseback riding. Even so, the horse and the rider had to get used to each other and form a bond of mutual trust.

The prince leaned backwards intending to lie down on the grass. But, then, he frowned and returned into a sitting position. He rolled his left shoulder. Then he massaged it with his fingers. He had sprained it while sparring with one of his bodyguards a few days ago. It was nothing serious and Gisela had prescribed him a jar of ointment that had a tart smell. He had rubbed it into the skin a few times and it seemed to be working, but, occasionally, the dull aches still reoccurred.

Trying to do so without aggravating his shoulder, the prince lay down. Inhaling the pleasant scent of the freshly mown grass, he looked at the sky. There was no sun. Despite this, the heat was sweltering. The sky was dotted with blotches of dark clouds which didn’t move in the absence of wind. The swallows, nesting under the roofs of the stables, were also flying low. All signs showed rain; he wished Yuuri would hurry up.

Wolfram was awakened from his doze by someone’s excited voice. A little surprised that he had fallen asleep, the prince stood up. Dusting the grass and ants off his trousers, he looked over the fence. The king was on his black mare already. Conrart was following him closely on his own. Gunter was catching up with the two, and Wolfram believed it had been his voice that had woken him up; he was shouting for Yuuri to wait for him.

The blond rolled his eyes. He started walking along the fence towards the gate leading out of the training yard and to the castle. Behind him, he could hear the horses galloping in a circle and the king’s voice. He had planned to join Yuuri, but now decided that he was too sleepy for that. Besides, with Gunter present, Yuuri’s attention was going to be divided, Gunter’s colorful personality capturing most of it.

The prince was halfway up to the yard when he heard a horse galloping in his direction. He turned around to see Yuuri catching up with him. Conrart and Gunter were a few meters behind the king.

“Hi, Wolfram,” Yuuri greeted, his right hand letting go of the reins to give him a wave.

Wolfram nodded. “How was your day?”

Yuuri shrugged. “The usual…too much paperwork and not enough time.” 

“Not enough experience would be closer to the truth,” Wolfram muttered.

Yuuri let out an agreeing sigh. Despite the fact that he had gotten much better at reading and writing, there were still a huge number of cases where he lacked even the most basic insights into the Demons’ culture, and he always double checked if he was not certain of something. He still required constant help from either Gwendal or Gunter regarding even minor matters.

As the blond continued walking towards the castle, the king urged his horse and sided next to Wolfram. They were passing men who were sparring and most of whom now were trying to show off their skill before their king. Gunter and Conrart fell behind, giving some privacy for the engaged couple to converse. 

“What about you? I thought you’d join me for a ride?” Yuuri asked.

“Somehow I don’t feel like it,” Wolfram said, giving a small yawn. “Feel sleepy. Besides, I went for a ride earlier.”

“What? Without waiting for me?”

“Yuuri, it’s going to rain – I didn’t want to leave Kerda without any exercise today.”

The king upturned his head to stare at the sky. “Right.” He lowered his head once more. Then he leaned down and patted his horse on the neck. “Conrart picked a good horse. We seem to understand each other perfectly.”

Wolfram turned his head to look at the black mare. “What is her name?”

“Ernesta.”

“I see,” Wolfram said. The name sounded weird to his ears, as did all the foreign words Yuuri used. “Yuuri, you should turn around. I don’t think the soldiers will be very happy about your horse fertilizing their training yard.”

Instinctively, Yuuri looked behind him, expecting to find a steaming pile but there was none. “Ah. Right,” he said, turning his horse around. “See you at dinner, then.”

Wolfram nodded. He reached the door and headed for his room to get spare clothes, after which he went to the royal baths. He had already washed his hair and the sweat off his body and was resting in the pool when he heard someone enter the baths. From where he was leaning against the edge, he raised his head to see the king walking towards him. Yuuri gave him a short smile then started undressing. Wolfram averted his eyes when Yuuri gave him an awkward look. 

Wolfram reclined his head to stare at the dome above. There wasn’t much to look at: there were no frescos as it was always damp and warm in the baths and the paint wouldn’t hold. As it was now, all he could look at was scaled scrollwork. The impressive windows of stained glass were on Yuuri’s side. But, even if he could look at them, today there was no sunshine to fall through.

Wolfram heard the king ease himself into the bath. He watched Yuuri open a small cabinet next to the pool and take a bottle of shampoo. Yuuri was still sensitive about other people’s touch and Wolfram didn’t offer to do it for him. 

When Yuuri started washing his hair, Wolfram climbed out of the bath. He dried himself and, as it was evening already and he was feeling hot, dressed into a shirt and trousers, allowing himself to leave the jacket off. He left the dirty clothes in the basket next to the entrance and, without noticing Yuuri’s thoughtful gaze on his back, exited the baths. There were still twenty minutes left until dinner and headed upstairs back into his room.

He found the book he had started reading two days ago. The title was The Art of War and Yuuri had given him a somewhat upset look when he first saw him holding it. Yuuri was a pacifist to the core. Meanwhile, Wolfram was not that certain that Yuuri’s good fortune would last for much longer and knew that the time might come when the peaceful demonstration of the Demon King’s power wouldn’t be enough. Sometimes, war was needed to keep the peace.

Wolfram found the king naïve. But, at the same time, he admired his innocence. He knew that deep down Yuuri realized that, but he also believed that Yuuri would do anything to avoid bloodshed. The thing that was worrying Wolfram, though, was that he was not certain how far Yuuri would go in his effort to defend his viewpoint. He didn’t want to get up one morning and find that an army had invaded and usurped Shin Makoku because Yuuri had lacked decision and resolution.

Wolfram closed the book and put it aside on the table. He had turned the page but realized that his eyes had been the only ones taking part in the reading process – his brain had abstained and he could not remember a thing he had read. Recently, he could not concentrate on anything, feeling restless. The reason was Yuuri’s upcoming birthday. It was going to be a huge banquet with people coming in throngs. But that was not the only reason for his restlessness. He was excited, excited to the point he felt giddy with anticipation and nervousness.

For Demons, it was the age of sixteen when they were admitted into adulthood. For Humans, the number was eighteen. This was what Conrart had told him. He was certain that Yuuri was going to announce the date of their wedding during the banquet. He had been waiting for this moment forever, it seemed.

Wolfram submerged into his thoughts then resurfaced from them at the sound of the dinner bell. He left the room and climbed downstairs, meeting Gwendal on his way. They exchanged a few phrases summing up their monotonous workday. Then, together with others, they filed into the dining room.

The dinner passed in an excited hubbub created mostly by Gunter and Cecilie. Gunter had been talking excitedly about the preparations involved for the birthday celebration. Gunter liked banquets. He loved hustling and bustling halls. Wolfram knew that it was more than Gunter enjoying a busy evening. It was because every banquet had inexhaustible opportunities to make useful social contacts and to consolidate the existing ones. Gunter was a politician to his bones.

After dinner, Wolfram left the table and went to the balcony to sit down on a bench there. The balcony had been open while they had been dining but it did almost nothing to refresh the sweltering heat. There was not a sign of wind. The black clouds were suspended above in silence. 

Wolfram watched the hushed and empty garden; the birds and animals had hidden themselves from the oncoming storm. He turned his head to look at Yuuri, who joined him on the bench a few minutes later. 

“Seems like it’s going to be stormy tonight, isn’t it?” Yuuri said conversationally.

Wolfram nodded. Yuuri was content after the lavish dinner. He stretched out onto the bench, reclining his head and exhaled blissfully. Wolfram chuckled softly at the immodest display.

“Your manners are outrageous.”

Yuuri gave him a grin. “Oh, allow me a breather from being all kingly and mighty.”

“Mmm…” hummed Wolfram, “and which part of you, exactly, is kingly and mighty?”

“I’d say my horse.”

Wolfram chuckled again. He turned away from Yuuri and, following his fiancé’s example, also reclined his head and relaxed. A small drop of rain wetted his cheek and he enjoyed the freshness it offered. He liked these moments with Yuuri when they could put all their problems behind them. They were even more precious as Yuuri was frequently absent for long periods of time. For Yuuri, those were mere days or weeks. Here, though, they turned into months.

He could understand Yuuri and knew that it was hard and demanding to meet requirements of two absolutely different worlds. The thing was that at the same time he thought that Yuuri had his priorities mixed up. He was the Demon King and this was his kingdom and this was his place. For all Wolfram cared, the Earth could explode. 

Sometimes he wished it did.

Wolfram turned his head to look at Yuuri. The king’s eyes were closed. He was blissfully enjoying the calm evening. He always liked looking at how contrasting Yuuri’s long dark eyelashes seemed against his skin. Yuuri’s dark eyes, hair, eyebrows and eyelashes had always seemed exotic to him, even after he had gotten used to his fiancé’s looks. He found Yuuri very attractive and maybe that was one of the main reasons why five years ago the idea of being Yuuri’s fiancé didn’t upset him, even grew on him like his second skin.

If it had mostly been Yuuri’s looks at first, later it had been more about… Wolfram wasn’t certain what exactly it had been about, but its final result had been love. He had fallen for Yuuri, and hard. Yuuri was the first one he had fallen in love with. It hadn’t been a flash of lightning or anything, and, as he hadn’t been experienced in the matters of romance, the realization had come gradually. 

He still wasn’t experienced when it came to the matters of romance. He wanted to be, wanted very much.

Yuuri’s eyes snapped open and he jerked away from Wolfram as if someone had scalded him with burning oil. Wolfram tried to kiss him again and, this time, Yuuri pushed at the blond’s chest roughly, moving away from him. Yuuri yelped as he suddenly slid off the bench. The painful howl that followed Yuuri’s fall made Wolfram’s blood stop in his veins. 

Wolfram’s outstretched hand hovered in the air for a few moments while he was staring down at Yuuri. As if in a dream, the blond’s eyes focused on his still outstretched arm which had failed to catch Yuuri. Then his attention returned to Yuuri, who was writhing in pain on the floor and holding his left arm. It was bent in a very unnatural shape.

Wolfram shook himself off the trance and sprang to Yuuri. “Gisela, call Gisela!” he yelled towards the dining room. “Yuuri has broken his arm!” He held his hands over Yuuri but didn’t touch him and, at the same time, Yuuri raised his eyes to give Wolfram an accusing look. 

In fact, Wolfram couldn’t help Yuuri. Gisela was going to come and do what needed to be done. He had seen his share of broken bones but his skill came to nothing when compared to a professional’s. It was best to just wait for the doctor to come.

Gisela rushed into the dining room a few minutes later. She passed the crowd of onlookers, set her bag with instruments down, and leaned over Yuuri. She cut Yuuri’s sleeve off with scissors to reveal the place of fracture. After a few prods and a dozen of painful shrieks from Yuuri, he had his arm in a sling in ten minutes. He was given a cup of bitter medicine and escorted to his bedroom where he soon fell asleep.

Wolfram returned to his room. He was still shaking when he sat down on his bed. He was in shock. He could still see his desperately outstretched hand and Yuuri’s accusing look. Accusing, angry with him for trying to… The thought of them kissing was so repulsive to Yuuri that he had fallen off the bench. 

The realization had come to Wolfram on the balcony. But now the full extent of it hit him like a rock between the eyes. The pain in his stomach was sharp and pulsing and he felt faint. 

He had noticed, of course, had noticed long ago. Only that he had chosen to justify, ignore or pretend not to notice those peculiar things Yuuri had been doing for five years. He had put them down to Yuuri’s ignorance of Shin Makoku customs, his extreme shyness, their different characters or interests. To anything but the expression of Yuuri’s true feelings. He had known that chasing after Yuuri had turned into a humiliating addiction. But despite knowing this, he could not stop himself.

Wolfram used to get everything he wanted. He loved Yuuri. There had not even been a thought about Yuuri not loving him back. It was unthinkable, inconceivable and…very painful. Yuuri was a challenge and he had also believed that Yuuri just needed a push and he would realize he liked him. There was no way Yuuri wouldn’t. And during all these five years, he had given his all to make him realize they were meant for each other. He had nearly pushed Yuuri off both the literal and proverbial cliff. This time, it was a bench. Next time, gods only knew.

About half a year ago, Yuuri had also started locking his chambers before going to sleep. He didn’t allow any touch nor touched himself. Yuuri also seemed awkward after catching Wolfram’s dreamy gaze. Not that Wolfram did that frequently – he instinctively knew and tried to avoid causing this kind of reaction. Delusion tasted much sweeter than rejection.

He should have let go long ago, but his entire essence protested against the very thought. He loved Yuuri, had created thousands of future plans in his head for them both together. He had been deluding himself, though. How low would he have sunk further if not for this evening? 

It was enough, simply enough.

The decision made it all somehow better even though he was overwhelmed by a wave of self-pity. He swallowed a lump in his throat. He left the bed and, staggering like a drunk, went for his wardrobe. He clumsily peeled his shirt off then pulled his trousers off and found his nightshirt. He climbed back into the bed and fell into a restless slumber.

In the morning, Wolfram rolled out of the bed at the usual time but without any enthusiasm. He washed his face in the bowl and then dried it. Looking in the mirror, he groaned at the sight of his ghastly face. He tried to fix this with cream and a sprinkle of powder but the result was so terrifying that, in the end, he washed it all off. He dressed in his uniform and combed his rebellious hair. Deciding that he looked awful but just right for a man who was going to call off his engagement, Wolfram left his room.

The blond started every morning with exercising with his men or riding Kerda. Today, though, he had no heart for this. He was so nervous that all he could do was keep himself from running around the castle in search of Gwendal. He doubted he would be able to concentrate on anything. He wanted to be done with this as soon as possible.

Wolfram had hardly slept all night, thinking. And when he did sleep, his dreams were interrupted by various images, coiling in his psyche and permeating him to the core. Through all this, he could hear thunder rumbling, flashes of light reached him even through closed eyelids, and he could feel the bed vibrating. Before dawn came, though, he had already steeled himself to do the unthinkable – to terminate the engagement.

Walking past a window, the prince noticed that there had been not a sign left of the violent storm last night. The thirsty ground had greedily drunk the offering. The small puddles which were still visible were already evaporating into the morning air. This was going to be another day of boiling hot weather.

First, Wolfram wanted to consult Gwendal. When it involved the king of the country, it was not only his concern but the entire country’s as well. In fact, he didn’t want to discuss the matter with his elder brother but right now, Gwendal was the only one he could seek help from.

Gwendal was an early bird and Wolfram found him outside, on his horse, next to the stables. At first, the general paid him no attention as coming to the stables belonged to Wolfram’s morning routine. Then, after looking at his face more intently, he climbed off his horse; this was serious.

“What is it?”

“Good morning,” Wolfram nodded, somewhat amused and warmed up by the concern in his brother’s voice. Trust Gwendal to know from one glance that he was in trouble. “I would like to talk to you.”

“Alright. Let’s go to my study.”

“Oh, we can talk after you’re done here,” Wolfram said, motioning with his hand at Gwendal’s horse.

Gwendal raised his eyebrows at him, wordlessly asking him why he had come here, then.

Wolfram was somewhat ashamed. “Well, yes. I simply can’t think about anything else.”

Gwendal threw the reins to one of the soldiers and, silently, both he and Wolfram turned back to the castle. Once in Gwendal’s study, the general motioned for his brother to sit down. Gwendal himself moved into his usual place behind his desk. He pulled his chair closer to the desk, leaned back into it, put his arms onto the desk, crossed his fingers and raised his eyebrows, encouraging Wolfram to speak.

“I’m thinking about annulling my and Yuuri’s engagement.”

Gwendal’s eyebrows reached unimaginable heights. “You are?” he finally managed.

Wolfram nodded. He found Gwendal’s reaction funny. Everything seemed so…unreal. He felt somehow detached. He had reached the decision last night, burned it into his brain, and now he was just following it blindly. 

“What resulted in this sudden decision?”

Wolfram shifted in his seat uneasily. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

Gwendal gave him an inquiring look but didn’t pressure. “Are you really certain?” he asked.

“Yes, I am absolutely certain,” Wolfram confirmed.

Gwendal nodded. “You’re doing the right thing.” He gave a surprised Wolfram a serious look. “I just regret you didn’t do this earlier.”

Wolfram found himself wanting to ask why but then closed his mouth. He knew why. He guessed that any bystander could see that his and Yuuri’s relationship didn’t work. There was nothing potential between them. He could presume that Gwendal had been painfully aware of everything which had been happening during these endless five years. 

“Have you discussed this with His Majesty?”

“No, not yet. First, I wanted to consult you and know your opinion on this matter.”

“You have my full support,” Gwendal said nodding. “I see why you’re concerned – there are less than two weeks left until the King’s birthday. Nonetheless, if handled properly, there won’t be much commotion either way. So will you wait or do it now?”

“Why should I wait? This will be a perfect birthday present for Yuuri.”

“Save your sarcasm for some other time. So how about it?”

“I want to do it as fast as possible. Today sounds perfect.” Wolfram could see that Gwendal wanted to ask him if he wasn’t being too rash but then his brother swallowed the question and nodded. Wolfram lowered his eyes to the surface of the desk. “This farce has been going on for too long already.” Both of them understood that the sooner it was done, the less painful it would be and he could start recovering faster.

“Alright, I’ll ready the documents,” said Gwendal. “You go and talk to His Majesty. After he has had his breakfast, preferably.”

“I don’t think it’s necessary. He will know and understand at once why after seeing the document.”

“Wolfram, I know that you’re upset and hurting, but common sense demands you talk to him first. You will regret it later if you don’t talk to him first,” Gwendal added.

Wolfram gave him an unhappy look. “Alright,” he said, leaving his chair. He knew he was behaving cowardly, but he was apprehensive of his reaction after seeing Yuuri. It was easier to do this when the person involved was not in front of him.

It was quiet at the breakfast table. At first, Yuuri had to assure everyone that his arm was not hurting and that Gisela said it was going to heal nicely. After that, the conversations dried up. Tentatively, Gunter tried to regain some of yesterday’s good mood, but the air was filled with impending inevitability. Wolfram noticed that Yuuri was avoiding meeting his eyes and when they accidentally did, he would lower his head guiltily. In turn, this made Wolfram feel guilty as well. Yuuri knew he had hurt his feelings. But it had been him who had been demanding Yuuri’s attention even if Yuuri never seemed interested. Yuuri didn’t pretend that there could ever be anything between them. The only thing he could accuse Yuuri of was the lack of sternness. Yuuri should have just annulled their engagement instead of allowing him to live in that vain hope.

When breakfast was over, Yuuri went to his study to fight the hordes of paperwork. Wolfram gave him a few minutes to settle in his workplace then knocked on the door.

“Wolfram,” Yuuri said a little surprised when he saw Wolfram enter his study.

“We need to talk,” Wolfram said, walking over to the chair in front of Yuuri’s desk. He motioned at the chair. “May I?”

“Oh yes, of course. Why so formal?” Yuuri wondered, forcing out a laugh. He patted the stack of papers on his desk with his right hand. “It would have been perfect if you had aimed for my right arm. No paperwork for me, then,” he tried to joke guessing that Wolfram had come to apologize. He quieted uneasily as the prince frowned at him.

“I didn’t aim for your arms at all,” Wolfram muttered, looking at Yuuri’s black uniform. “What I had been aiming at was your heart, Yuuri.” He raised his head to meet Yuuri’s eyes. As usual, Yuuri avoided the statement by looking anywhere but him. This time, his gaze went out of the window to stare at the Royal Gardens.

Once again, Wolfram swallowed a lump that had formed in his throat. “Don’t worry, I realized that it’s impossible. I want us to annul our engagement.” Now he had Yuuri’s full attention. No matter how painful it was, after seeing Yuuri’s reaction, Wolfram knew that he had done the right thing. Yuuri’s face showed everything: he was shocked, disbelieving, unsure, uneasy, but, mostly, he seemed to be relieved.

“You sure?” he asked after a long pause.

“And you are asking me this after what happened yesterday?”

Wolfram’s voice was hoarse and Yuuri sagged in his chair, his shoulders slumping guiltily upon remembering the thwarted kiss. “I…” he trailed off not knowing what to say. “Mm… I…”

Wolfram took pity on him. He stood up. “I see that you agree with the annulment. Gwendal is preparing the documents for you to sign. They should be ready by noon.” He started walking towards the door, indicating that the conversation was over.

Yuuri watched the blond’s back. “Wolfram…”

The prince raised his hand, cutting Yuuri off. He shook his head. “Don’t. There’s nothing to say.”

All Yuuri could see was the back of the blond’s head but he winced at the way Wolfram’s voice sounded. This was what he had been trying to avoid all this time. He didn’t want to see Wolfram suffer like this. He had wanted… Gods, he just wanted to be friends with Wolfram.

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri muttered just before the prince closed the door.

Once Wolfram left, Yuuri slumped over his desk, his forehead thumping against it. He wasn’t sorry because of the annulment. This should have been done earlier. He was sorry he had disappointed Wolfram so much. He was the one who never disappointed anyone, the one who always tried to justify everyone’s trust in him. Wolfram was someone he loved, respected, and trusted with his own life but he couldn’t give Wolfram the one thing he truly wanted. He could give it to any average girl, but not to Wolfram.

Sometimes, he even wished he could.

He was sorry about the pain he was causing Wolfram. He was also afraid that this was going to affect their relationship irreparably. He knew it was going to. There was no way it wouldn’t. Groaning, Yuuri rubbed his face with his hands.

Tbc


	2. Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Kyou Kara Maou! – It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I’m not making any money from writing it.  
> Warnings: yaoi (male x male), violence, swearing. Wolfram-centric, out of character, original character.  
> Summary: With Yuuri’s upcoming birthday, Wolfram makes his decision. Where will it lead him and what is to become of them? Should eventually be Yuuri x Wolfram.  
> A/N 1: Yuuri – 18 years old. Wolfram – 20.  
> A/N 2: Greta doesn’t exist.  
> A/N 3: European/American/Japanese standards all at once depending on the plot requirements.  
> A/N 4: A tendency to ignore the anime/manga and supplement the story with my own imagined facts.   
> A/N 5: Season III is not taken into consideration, except for the fact that Wolfram’s uncle exists.  
> A/N 6: The umlaut in Gunter’s name is a bother.

**Bloom**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by HARPG0

Part 2

Yuuri raised his head up from the document he had been signing to look at Gwendal entering his study. Gwendal was carrying a few pages of paper. Judging from the expression on the general’s face, these were the documents Wolfram had been talking about. Wolfram hadn’t been kidding when he said they would be ready by noon. So fast.

Yuuri pushed everything aside from his desk to make space for these documents. Yuuri took them from the general and, with his head, motioned at the seat in front of his desk. The silence was grating on his nerves but he didn’t know what to say. Instead, he concentrated on the papers in his right hand. There were two copies of the same document. Both of them already bore Wolfram’s signatures. He started reading the first one.

“This was sudden, wasn’t it?” he said when he had read them through.

“No. What was sudden was the engagement. Its termination has been going on for five years already.”

Yuuri gave the general a wry smile. For him, because of the time flow difference between Earth and Shin Makoku, it had been three and a half. Despite this, he nodded. “Yes, I’ve been avoiding confronting this for far too long.”

“It’s for the best,” Gwendal said. “You’re a good man, Yuuri, a good king, but you are not the one for Wolfram – it will never work.”

Without answering, Yuuri lowered the papers and reached for his pen. Gwendal rarely spoke so openly and he had to respect that. Slowly, Yuuri put his signature on the first and then the second copy. “This is it,” he said, putting his pen down. He gathered the documents and held them out for the general to take. 

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Gwendal said. Without adding anything else, he took the papers and left the room.

When Gwendal returned to his study, he found Wolfram where he had left him five minutes ago before going to Yuuri to get his signatures. Numbly, he waved the papers in the air. “It’s over.” The greenness in Wolfram’s eyes became overflowing.

The blond stood up and met him halfway to his desk to ascertain for himself. The signatures, indeed, were there, blue on white. The elaborate signature with scrolls and quirks Gunter had taught him. Wolfram stared at the sheets of paper in his hand. He suddenly realized that deep down he had expected Yuuri to rush in shouting: ‘I’ll never let you go! Never!’ This had only been wishful thinking, of course. If that wasn’t enough, Yuuri had signed them in five minutes.

Wolfram’s lips formed a wry smile. It was over now. 

A few clear droplets fell on the documents and Gwendal pulled them out of Wolfram’s fingers to carry them over to his desk. He put them down and turned back to his brother. He hesitated between ignoring Wolfram’s tears and trying to console him. Time healed all wounds, and there was plenty of fish in the sea. Right. But somehow, now, seeing Wolfram reduced to this broken mess didn’t make it so believable. He wanted to feel Yuuri’s neck snapping in his hands.

Wiping at his tears angrily, Wolfram lowered his forehead on Gwendal’s shoulder when his brother embraced him. “I’m sorry,” he breathed out, embarrassed, while Gwendal was stroking his hair. He swallowed loudly then took in a few lungfuls but instead of calming him down, this made the dam burst. He started chocking on his tears. “Th-this is so disgraceful,” he rasped out.

Gwendal patted him on his back awkwardly. “Don’t worry about it; it’s only natural.” He produced a handkerchief out of his pocket. He gave it to Wolfram.

“Th-thanks.”

While Wolfram was blowing his nose, Gwendal guided him to the chair. He gently pushed on his brother’s shoulders to seat him there. Not knowing what to do, he stood in front of the sniffling blond. He stroked Wolfram’s shoulder comfortingly.

“It’s okay. It’s over now.”

Gwendal winced when this made Wolfram hiccup and hide his face deeper into the handkerchief. He had never been very good at consoling people. He rubbed Wolfram’s shoulder again and then retreated to his place at the desk where he thought he would cause less damage. He fidgeted with his fingers on the desk while Wolfram blew his nose.

“Thanks,” Wolfram muttered.

“Keep it,” Gwendal said quickly, noticing that his brother was fidgeting with the wet handkerchief, unsure.

Wolfram smiled at him then hiccupped. “I’ll return it after it’s been washed.”

Gwendal watched the reddish eyes and teary face. Wolfram was wiping at his cheeks with his fingers, seemingly calmer. “You okay now?”

“Yes, somewhat.” Seeing Gwendal’s worried face, he shook his head. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

“You’d better be. We still have to make the announcement at lunch.” He looked at his watch. “In fifteen minutes, in fact.”

“Mother will be disappointed.”

Gwendal’s eyebrows rose slightly. He hummed something out, but restrained himself from commenting. He doubted this would disappoint or even surprise the former queen. Another thing which had kept him from commenting was that their mother would probably start seeing Yuuri as a potential object of interest. Cecilie was morally flexible concerning her lovers.

****

oOoOo_About two weeks later_oOoOo

Long, encumbered tables lined the hall. Fruit, snacks, bottles of wine and bowls of punch were waiting for the surge of a hungry mob. The hall was still empty but for the servants straightening the tablecloths and adding last minute touches to the setting. Three maids rushed in with vases filled with fresh flowers. The heavy vases found place on the tables as well.

Absentmindedly leaning on the rails of the stair, Wolfram watched the scurrying servants. Unlike his family, he hadn’t been waiting in anticipation for the banquet. He, like the servants, thought this a hassle. He didn’t like banquets and the fake pleasantries which came with them. Sometimes, it was like watching a comedy, only that he didn’t find the play amusing and wished for it to end faster.

During the last few days, Blood Pledge Castle had become a temporary home for many noble families and their servants who had arrived from the furthest regions of Shin Makoku or overseas kingdoms. Their rooms were on the opposite wing of the castle. This was another reason why Wolfram didn’t like banquets – one had to, somehow, keep all of the guests occupied for as long as possible. If not, there would not be a moment when one wouldn’t stumble across curious guests wandering through the castle halls. Even then, one had to be ready to smile and to plunge into absolutely meaningless conversations.

Wolfram sighed and pushed himself off the rail. Ten more minutes and people would start flooding the hall. This was going to be one endless day. Wolfram turned his head as one of the doors opened, letting in a horde of musicians. He hoped that at least the music was going to be good. From what he had vaguely heard during their rehearsals in the yard, they were not bad at all.

Dancing was another thing Wolfram didn’t like. Listening to music was something he enjoyed, but dancing… He supposed he was average at dancing but he didn’t like the close proximity of the bodies as he was sensitive to other people invading his personal space. The only body he would have liked to invade his space and be very proximate with always refused to dance with him anyway.

After musing about all things he didn’t like about banquets, Wolfram tried to look on the brighter side. Not that he believed there was one. It was simply because Gwendal had told him long ago that it was easier that way.

Wolfram reached the end of the stairs. Then, waiting for his family to show up, he sidled up to a wall. Soon enough, the household entered the hall and the last thing he knew he was being swept up with the rising tide. Soon, he was standing close to the throne and watching the guests flood in to congratulate the king on his birthday. Puffed dresses, smart tailcoats, and medaled uniforms rustled and swooshed all around.

A row had formed while the herald announced everyone’s names, ranks, and social status. Yuuri greeted and smiled brightly at everyone, nodding and accepting curtsies and, to Wolfram’s understanding, more importantly, expensive gifts.

“The Count and Countess of Desmaria, Perilus and Secilie von Donara.”

A bow and a curtsy followed, greetings were exchanged and another couple stopped in front of the throne.

“The Duke of Raizgad, Eldara von Ashira and Lady Halea von Ashira.”

“Thank you very much for coming, Your Grace, My Lady. I hope your stay will be pleasant.”

“Thank you very much. I’m sure it will be, Your Majesty,” Lady von Ashira said, curtsying.

“Your Majesty.”

Interested, Yuuri watched the duke bow. The Duke of Raizgad was the one the King of Kardera had sent in his place. Yuuri wondered how much of the illness was true and how much of it was pretended. Shin Makoku had tried to form friendly, diplomatic ties with the Kingdom of Kardera but the king didn’t seem to want to have anything to do with Shin Makoku, and Demons in general. Fortunately, he didn’t seem to be interested in joining alliances against Shin Makoku, either. 

The duke was a tall, handsome man who seemed to be in his mid-twenties with an oblong face and regular features. His blue eyes and small mouth had a certain sternness about them. He had long dark hair with a dark tinge of violet, wearing it loose and letting it cascade down his shoulders and to the small of his back. The duke was wearing a long military jacket which Yuuri found similar to Gwendal’s only that the duke’s was brown. Yuuri noticed that it was free of medals.

Yuuri looked at Halea von Ashira. She was a beautiful young woman wearing a blue dress which, according to the latest fashion, was encumbered by elaborate laces and ribbons. It was obvious that the duke and she were related by blood – Yuuri guessed that she was his sister; he would have to look this up in archives later. The woman was younger but had the same-colored hair and was tall as well. Her sparkling eyes, though, were brown and with much more warmth in them than the duke’s.

“Liustras von Spinta,” the herald introduced and, smiling, Yuuri turned his eyes to the next people in the row.

When the introductions were over, the guests were asked to join the table. Servants started bringing in hot meals and, holding a glass of wine, Gunter stood up to give a speech. After which, Yuuri thanked everyone one more time for coming to celebrate with him and invited everyone to enjoy the banquet.

With soft music playing in the background, Wolfram emptied his second glass of wine. He wasn’t hungry, but, trying not to stand out, he accepted some of the stewed pork offered by one of the servants. He cut a small piece of it and started chewing idly.

Once people were full, they started drifting around in the hall, introducing each other, talking. Wolfram turned to look at Yuuri, who was surrounded by a circle of varicolored puffed dresses, giggles and endless flirting. Irritated, Wolfram sipped his wine. Figures. As soon as the news of them breaking up started going around, Yuuri suddenly became every woman’s dream. Who wouldn’t want to marry a king, after all?

Wolfram snickered to himself silently. It was obvious that Yuuri adored the attention. He could see how happy his wimp was to be finally able to freely enjoy the attention of women. Wasn’t this every man’s dream, after all? To be surrounded by beautiful women who fought for him amongst themselves. 

On the other side of the hall, the Duke of Raizgad was leaning on a windowsill and looking at the Royal Garden outside. He figured that when the heat let up, they would be invited to look around there. He was looking forward to it. He sighed and took a sip from his glass. This was only the beginning of the banquet and he was already bored out of his mind. He wished his king had found someone else to stand in for him.

He started and nearly spilled his glass as someone touched his shoulder. “Ah, isn’t this my dear sister?” he said in a slightly reproachful tone after turning around.

“Careful with that wine,” Halea said. She patted him on his shoulder. “Hang on in there, Eldara. Your self-sacrifice won’t go unnoticed, I promise.”

The duke gave her a short smile. “The best reward would be if you finally married,” he said. “Regarding that, any luck with the king?”

Churning her wine in her glass, Halea sighed. She looked over where the king was surrounded by a throng of excited women. “No. He seems to like them blond and stupid.”

Eldara’s eyes found Wolfram von Bielefeld. “Obviously,” he said, grinning.

She elbowed him lightly. “Stop it. I heard it was a heartbreaking separation.”

“Oh, I have no doubts about that,” Eldara said. “I’d also be heartbroken if I lost so much money and influence.”

Halea shrugged. “You’re probably right not believing in love. But I haven’t lost my hope to find the one.”

“Yes,” the duke saluted her with his glass, “good luck with that. As long as you believe that all your problems lie in your ‘not blond’ hair and you ‘not being stupid’, everything should be alright.”

Halea’s brow rose at him. “I don’t want to hear that from someone who is thirty-one and is still a bachelor.”

Eldara grinned at her. “And thank gods for that!” He raised his glass. “To my future brother-in-law, then?”

“Sure,” she said, clinking her glass against his. “But mark my words, one day you will die of too much sarcasm.”

“Better than of syphilis anyway.”

\---

The next two hours found Wolfram lounging about in the hall. He was hot and tired, somewhat drunk, and could not stop sulking. He felt better when some of the tables were moved outside and everyone was invited to go into the garden. He found a bench under a lime tree and settled there. 

Wolfram didn’t have much peace as soon he found himself encircled by women. Maybe he would have been pleased about his popularity but this meant that they had lost hope to succeed with Yuuri. Even if he had absolutely no interest in women, getting leftovers was hurting his pride. To his dismay, he had no much choice except to smile stupidly and maintain the conversations. He started developing a headache.

From about ten meters away, the Duke of Raizgad was distractedly watching his sister’s futile attempts to get Wolfram von Bielefeld’s attention. He could tell that it was a lost cause. The blond was participating in conversations and even squeezing out a smile here and a laugh there, but, in general, he looked as if someone was sticking needles under his fingernails. The duke chuckled silently as his sister seemed to have finally realized that and left the circle, looking for someone else to pester.

“Eldara von Ashira. How nice of you to come to Shin Makoku, Your Grace.”

Eldara turned around to look at Cecilie von Spitzweg. He took his glass in his left hand and reached the proffered hand. “Your Highness,” he said before kissing it.

She smiled at him coquettishly. “Still as gallant as ever.”

“Ma’am,” Eldara said, letting go of her hand and straightening, “when we met last time, I was just a ten-year-old. I think I could have been anything – hyperactive, bratty, or insolent, anything but gallant.”

Cecilie’s glass also returned to her right hand while she was smiling at him charmingly. “Oh, even then you were showing signs of success.”

Accepting the compliment, Eldara bowed.

She looked at his uniform closer. “I see His Grace isn’t wearing any of his medals today…”

“They jingle too much, Ma’am; with them, I sound like a belled cat taking a stroll.”

Cecilie laughed softly. “Now you’re boasting.”

Eldara smiled. “Maybe.”

Cecilie came closer to him and softly clinked their glasses together. “You did a wonderful job at raising your siblings.”

Eldara bowed again. “This is not my achievement at all, Ma’am. I had a lot of servants to take care of them.”

“Oh, don’t be so modest, dear. I know how hard it is.”

“You are too kind, Ma’am.”

“If you bow one more time, your back might break.”

Eldara chuckled. “Then it’s better to stop embarrassing me, Ma’am.”

“And, please, humor me and drop the honorifics, dear. I’m too old and you’re too young for that.”

They looked at each other, smiling. Eldara brought his glass to his lips. And why in the world did Orinth the Fifth send him here? There were so many other people who loved banquets and these idiotic conversations. Why him? He wished he could just get drunk and fall asleep in front of a fireplace like he sometimes did at home. Getting drunk here, though, might lead to him falling asleep with his head in a salad bowl. Not that it was the worst thing that could happen. 

“Excuse me for asking, but how old is Halea?” Cecilie roused him from his dark thoughts.

“My sister?” Eldara asked, somewhat surprised. “She’s nearly twenty.”

“About time to get married.”

“Tell me about it,” Eldara muttered, sipping from his glass. At least, the wine was good. “She is getting more and more restless with every passing month. Children would do good for her.”

“I think my Gwendal would be a good match. He should have married long ago as well.”

“Gwendal von Voltaire?” the duke looked at her incredulously. “But he’s a Demon.”

“Oh, but I heard you have nothing against Demons.”

Eldara gave her a searching look. “That’s so, but I’m not the one who would have to live with one.”

Cecilie suddenly offered him such a bright smile that it nearly blinded the duke. “Oh, what a wonderful idea! You’d be a nice pair!”

Stunned, Eldara stared at the innocently smiling Cecilie. “Who? Me and Gwendal von Voltaire?” His eyes found the older man in the hall. Noticing the sharp stare, von Voltaire turned to look at him. His right eyebrow rose at him questioningly.

Eldara gave him a polite smile and lowered his eyes to Cecilie. “I don’t think this is possible. We have… Besides, he’s already married. To Shin Makoku.”

“Oh? You prefer women, then?”

The duke gave Cecilie a somewhat strained smile. So this was where it had been leading. It always was. “They are better at some things than men, I suppose.”

“Oh?” Cecilie drawled, her finger’s sliding over the duke’s arm lightly. “Which things that may be?”

“Sewing, for example. Or spending money. Bearing children is also their specialty.”

Cecilie chuckled lightly. “I assure you that if I were your wife, now you’d be listing other things women are good at.”

“Mother?”

The duke turned to see Gwendal von Voltaire standing a step behind him. He realized that his face must have shown relief because the corners of von Voltaire’s lips quirked up. Eldara quickly schooled his face into a neutral expression and nodded. “Your Highness.” Gwendal must have thought that the previous glance he had given the man had been a call for help and now the man had gallantly come to his rescue.

“Your Grace.” Then Gwendal turned to Cecilie. “Mother, Countess Larensi has expressed a wish to share her experience of her travels with you.”

“Oh, Gwendal, dear,” Cecilie turned to take him by his arm and brought him closer to the duke. “We have just been discussing that you and Eldara would make a wonderful pair!”

Eldara hid his face behind his wineglass and took a sip, indicating he had nothing to do with this. Meanwhile Gwendal gave him a questioning look. 

“I’m very sorry, Your Grace, but you’re not my type,” he said, inclining his head slightly. “Mother,” he said, firmly taking Cecilie by her arm and leading her away.

Speechless, the duke stared at von Voltaire’s back.

“Eldara?”

The duke looked at his sister, who had lightly tugged him on his left sleeve. 

“What happened? You look somehow shaken up.”

“Hmm…” Taking his time, Eldara emptied his glass. “Well, I think I was proposed to and then rudely rejected. I’m still thinking whether I should feel insulted or honored or both.”

“By whom?”

“By Cecilie von Spitzweg and Gwendal von Voltaire.”

Halea patted him on his arm soothingly. “Well, Cecilie has already proposed herself to some ten men today, so it’s not a big deal. Now the part with von Voltaire sounds a bit more interesting.”

“He said I’m not his type.”

Halea gave him a surprised look then gasped. “You what? Just went and tried to pick him up? You really have balls of steel!”

The duke resisted the urge to slap himself on his forehead. “Language,” he warned. “It’s just the third time I saw the man. Von Voltaire is…not really what I look for in a partner, either. It was only a misunderstanding.”

Halea smiled at him sheepishly. “Right. Well, they say that love from the first sight does exist…” She chuckled. “So he hurt your pride, huh?”

Eldara stared at her for a few seconds. “Just a little,” he admitted with a light chuckle. “However, I’ll be civil and just ignore this and go get myself some more wine.”

Halea shrugged. She followed her brother, who had started making his way towards the tables which held food and drinks. He was grateful that nobody stopped him on his mission, and, in a beeline, he went for the drinks. Before he could do that, he was overtaken by one of the servants who scurried over to him with a tray with wineglasses. Thanking, he took one.

The siblings found an unoccupied bench. The sun was already setting and Eldara was looking forward to it. Maybe, there would be a chance to slip out of the banquet unnoticed. Maybe his wish to get drunk and fall asleep in front of a fireplace could still be fulfilled. Come to think of it, did they have a fireplace in their room here?

He watched Halea eating a cream biscuit. He fought the urge to wipe the crumbs off her lips. Sometimes, he forgot she was not a child anymore. He was going to miss her after she married.

“Here,” he indicated on his own lips. “Some crumbs.”

“Oh. Thanks,” she said wiping them off with a handkerchief which had suddenly appeared in her hands. The duke didn’t even want to think about where she was carrying it.

“Actually, Cecilie von Spitzweg said she wouldn’t mind if Gwendal and you married.”

“Eww…he’s even older than you! And has she even asked him?”

Eldara scowled. “Thank you very much, my dear sister. But, actually, you should give him some more thought. He’s a very good candidate. Being over forty means that he’s pretty much seen and done his share of fun and now he is ready to settle down. He knows what he wants from life and what to expect from it. He’s a man with experience so to speak.”

“Yes, with fixed habits and routines, some of which might involve leaving socks scattered all over the floor, farting at the dinner table, and going to a brothel on Sundays.”

“Language. You shouldn’t think you can change a younger man’s habits, either. I must warn you that it’s a faulty conviction.”

Halea rolled her head from one shoulder to another then massaged the back of her neck. The duke realized that she was tired as well. “Thanks for the warning,” she said. “But… Besides, he’s a Demon.”

The duke shrugged. “If you marry, you’ll live in Shin Makoku. They are very tolerant of Humans in the capital. There will be no one to point fingers at you and you’d create an important tie between the countries.”

“Yeah, right. And in case our countries decide to attack each other, I’d also be an important hostage.”

The duke sighed. “You have a point here. Alright, just do what you want.”

“I’d rather go for von Bielefeld. He’s younger and more handsome.”

“Thick as a brick as well.” The duke inspected the wine in his glass, sighing. “Hmm…” he hummed. “But, yes, this might be exactly what one wants in a husband.” He shrugged when his sister glared at him. “He would definitely be easier to bend to your will than von Voltaire. But I think you shouldn’t waste your time with von Bielefeld,” he said. “He doesn’t seem to be a ladies’ man.”

“He’s just heartbroken, the poor thing. He’ll come round soon enough.”

“No, that’s not what I meant.”

“Wh- Ohhh… Really?”

The duke shrugged. “I can’t be certain but it seems so.”

“He will still have to have children, you know.”

The duke gave her an annoyed look. “I really hope you’re kidding, Halea. I won’t allow you to marry just to…”

Chuckling, Halea patted her brother lightly on his arm. “Of course, I am kidding. I would never choose someone you don’t approve of. I value your opinion above all.”

The duke blinked slowly in surprise. “Well, that’s something I don’t hear every day.”

“That’s because I don’t say it every day.”

\---

The rest of the evening was calm: people were dancing, some of them got drunk and caused a scene or two but nothing was out of the ordinary. Wolfram had thought about slipping out of the banquet earlier, but then he had found a pretty safe spot on a bench placed between bushes and a fountain from where he could not be easily detected and, since nobody disturbed him, he stayed. He listened to the music, to the voices and laughter and found it somehow soothing. The only drawback was mosquitoes. 

At some point Wolfram realized that he wasn’t sitting alone anymore. He hadn’t even noticed how he had approached but now a man was sitting on the other end of the bench. Vaguely, Wolfram’s buzzed mind identified him as Duke-something. Duke-something saluted him with his glass after noticing his stare but otherwise didn’t disturb his solitude with any words. It seemed that Duke-something was also hiding from unwanted attention. When he looked at the other end of the bench twenty or so minutes later, Duke-something was nowhere to be seen. Shrugging, Wolfram finished another glass of wine and put it down onto the ground next to ten other empty ones.

Tbc


	3. Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Kyou Kara Maou! – It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I’m not making any money from writing it.  
> Warnings: yaoi (male x male), violence, swearing, angst, drama. Wolfram-centric, out of character, original character. Should eventually be Yuuri x Wolfram  
> Summary: With Yuuri’s upcoming birthday, Wolfram makes his decision. Where will it lead him and what is to become of them?  
> A/N 1: Yuuri – 18 years old. Wolfram – 20.  
> A/N 2: Greta doesn’t exist.  
> A/N 3: European/American/Japanese standards all at once depending on the plot requirements.  
> A/N 4: A tendency to ignore the anime/manga and supplement the story with my own imagined facts.   
> A/N 5: Season III is not taken into consideration, except for the fact that Wolfram’s uncle exists.  
> A/N 6: The umlaut in Gunter’s name is a bother.

**Bloom**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by HARPG0

Part 3

The Duke of Raizgad was sipping his wine leisurely and watching Gwendal von Voltaire carrying his drunken youngest brother into the castle. Maybe he shouldn’t have told Gwendal where the blond had nodded off. Leaving him asleep on that bench for the night would have resulted in interesting patterns on the blond’s face; mosquitoes were vicious tonight.

The brothers disappeared inside the castle and, sighing, the duke turned his attention back to what was left of the banquet. The mass of people had considerably thinned out. Now, there were about thirty of them left. They had broken into small groups of “very drunk”, “shouting and laughing”, and “discussing certain topics”.

The sky had become dark as well with a star here and there, the air cooling significantly. Yawning and wishing for everyone to finally go to sleep, the servants were following the guests, serving either a glass of wine or a snack. 

The duke was keeping an eye on two people farther in the garden. They were the only reason he was not in his bed yet. His sister had struck up a long conversation with someone whom he vaguely knew as Fredrick von Sarda. Despite the appearance that von Sarda seemed to be a gentleman, the duke didn’t want to risk leaving them unchaperoned in case von Sarda suddenly decided to introduce Halea to the variety of bushes in the garden.

Finally, the two started walking towards the castle. Trying not to appear too obvious, the duke waited for a few minutes then followed them inside. He found his sister in their room, safe and secure and in a good mood as well. She was getting ready for bed.

“Can you help me undo the corset?” 

Eldara looked at his sister, who had turned her back to him expectantly. “Where is your maid?” he asked while mistrustfully eyeing the webby structure of ties on her back.

“I told her she could have the evening free; something disagreed with her stomach.”

“I see. Really, one has to get used to what they eat here.” The duke cast a look at the window behind his sister. “Alright, just move away from that window. I would not want people to think we are doing something indecent here.”

Halea followed his gaze towards the window. The curtains were drawn but their shadows cast by the candles could probably be seen from the outside. She shook her head. “You have the weirdest ideas,” she said moving away from the window and walking farther into the room.

“It’s not me. It’s bystanders who have them,” Eldara said, wondering what exactly he should do with the corset ties. Maids were so much better at this. He hoped he would not need to help her to get this torture tool back on in the morning. “What exactly should I…?” he asked, tugging at the ties clumsily.

“Just pull them looser so I can pull it over my head.”

It took a few minutes for the duke to loosen the ties while his sister was huffing impatiently at the amount of time he took. Awkwardly, he turned away when Halea started to pull the corset over her head. He started unbuttoning his jacket. He suddenly felt dead tired.

“Fredrick said that Cecilie tried to pick him up as well,” Halea said, when she was finally free of the corset. She exhaled in relief. “She seems such a simpleminded bimbo. And to think that she was their Queen…”

Eldara hummed to show that he had heard the comment but wasn’t going to express his opinions on it. “Fredrick, huh?” he wondered instead. “So you’re already using your first names?”

“He’s cute.”

“If you want ‘cute’, get yourself a kitten,” the duke said frowning, his irritation rising due to his tiredness. “Yes, just get yourself a cat. No, three of them. That would also take care of your wish to have babies.” 

Halea scrunched her nose. “You’re so…feh.” She finally wrestled her puffed dress off and spread it onto one of the free chairs in the room then she picked up her nightshirt.

Eldara’s frown deepened. Maybe he really was “feh” and maybe he really was overprotective of her just as his brother had said, but he would really prefer her stroking a cat instead of Fredrick’s…tail. Eldara suddenly developed a headache.

“Well, I’m going to my corner,” Halea pointed at the bed on the opposite side of the room. “I still can’t believe they accommodated us in one room.”

“You know that it’s my fault for not warning them that I’d be bringing you as well.”

“Well, yes,” Halea agreed with a shrug.

The duke watched her walk over to her bed. He thought that he would be happy if she ever developed as much sense and cunning as Cecilie von Spitzweg. He went to sleep feeling guilty for this thought.

\---

There was something unsettling in Wolfram’s chest. Something was spinning in his head as well. His mouth was full of saliva. Brushing over his forehead with his fingers, Wolfram opened his eyes. It was dark everywhere and he was disoriented, but the scents around told him that it was his own room.

Something clanged loudly and rolled over the floor, clattering, when Wolfram stumbled out of his bed. He cursed loudly, lost his footing and fell backwards, his back meeting the mattress and a piece of hard wood. 

In the darkness, varicolored shapes started dancing in front of his eyes. Wolfram cursed again and groped around with his hand for that clanging thing, which his fading common sense had identified as someone’s purposely left pail.

\---

“How long has it been like this?” Gwendal asked.

Wolfram wasn’t certain if he was asking him or Gisela. Then, he realized that maybe Gwendal didn’t know which one of them to ask because Gisela was busy making a potion and he was half-conscious.

“He said that at the time it was still dark outside,” Gisela answered before Wolfram could open his mouth.

Gwendal’s head turned to the window involuntary. The curtains were drawn, but the bright light of summer midday was still seeping through. “Why didn’t you go looking for Gisela?” he asked with annoyance present in his voice.

Wolfram didn’t know what to answer so he didn’t. Instead, he turned on his side and retched again. 

Gwendal frowned and turned away from the sight of his youngest brother’s head hovering over the pail, getting rid of more bile. As far as he had seen, there was nothing else in the pail, only yellow bile. Gwendal rubbed his temples in worrisome irritation.

“How much has he drunk?” he asked.

“He doesn’t remember.”

“Right,” Gwendal grunted out, not surprised at all. He tried to recall the previous night and how many glasses there had been around the bench. “A bottle of wine,” he said. “Maybe more.” 

Spent, Wolfram shifted back into the bed. For now, the swimming in his head had stopped. This was the first time he had gotten so drunk and he thought he had deserved the outcome. He had known perfectly well how this kind of thing ends. Or, maybe, this was the punishment for how he had been maliciously happy about Yuuri’s broken arm while watching him flirt with those women. Damn that Yuuri! Damn him, damn everything and damn himself for still holding onto Yuuri! And damn, he was tired.

“I tried giving him medicine, but everything comes back up. This should pass in a few hours, though.”

Gwendal watched Wolfram sigh then close his eyes and try to catch a wink of sleep. The blond must be exhausted after the sleepless night. Wolfram rarely drank, he rather tasted; this was the reason for this mess.

“Alright, just tell me if anything changes,” Gwendal said.

“Yes, Sir, I will.”

oOoOo_About a week later_oOoOo

Wolfram watched the last of guests’ carriage leave. Finally, finally, the castle was free of outsiders. Maybe one shouldn’t call his uncle an outsider but he had never gotten along with the man very well. Waltorana had even stayed for a whole week. Very likely, he had done so to see if there really was no chance of his nephew and the king renewing their relationship. Waltorana hadn’t said anything to him about annulling the engagement, but, obviously, he wasn’t content with it either: the marriage would have considerably strengthened their position amongst other noble houses.

Wolfram turned away from the window and looked over at Gwendal, who was sitting behind his desk, reading the account for this month he had been delivered by his lieutenant general. 

It had taken Wolfram a week to regain his strength. He still didn’t feel back to normal. Gisela had explained that this was because his body had lost many minerals and vitamins. He had no idea what vitamins were, but minerals sounded more familiar, even if he wondered how those could have gotten into him – last time he checked he hadn’t been eating lumps of copper for breakfast.

The blond marched over to Gwendal’s desk. He cleared his throat to get his brother’s attention. Gwendal snorted something out to acknowledge his presence but didn’t cease studying the account. Wolfram stood still for a few moments then took the chair opposite his brother’s desk.

“I know you’ll probably be against it,” he started. “But I’d like to join one of the squads heading for patrol. I think it’s about time I started my military career.”

Slowly, Gwendal lowered the account onto the desk. His youngest brother was watching him expectantly. Gwendal pushed the account over the desk in a jerky movement. Anger bubbled inside of him and he opened his mouth to tell Wolfram that he was about to make the biggest mistake of his life, but then he closed it as he gave this some more thought. Alright, he knew that Wolfram was doing this only to run way from Yuuri. Yes, Wolfram didn’t have much experience in military service and he would find it very hard to obey someone else’s orders. And, true enough, it was dangerous as well. However, there was more to this: it was certain that, for the time being, Wolfram really needed to stay away from Yuuri; Wolfram was in need of half a year of military experience; it would be better if Wolfram went on patrol now, while it was still summer instead of late autumn or winter when it was easy to catch pneumonia or other diseases; the experience would be good for Wolfram, too. But the main point was that now, while Wolfram was still sharing his plans with him, he could continue to guide and advise. There was no way to guarantee that Wolfram wouldn’t just take off without telling anything to anyone. And maybe, just maybe, Wolfram would get bored to death with the patrol and would come back in a week or two.

“Alright, no problem with that. So, where do you want to go?” Wolfram was staring at him. His brother’s astonishment was so obvious that Gwendal had to suppress his laughter. “Where to?” Gwendal repeated. 

Wolfram stuttered out something incomprehensible and Gwendal quickly realized that his brother had not thought about it that far. Very likely, he had only readied himself to fight for his wish one step at a time, the first one being the need to get him to warm up to the idea of him going away. Now, Wolfram was fervently trying to figure out where the catch was. 

Gwendal was confident that Wolfram would soon make the appropriate conclusions. He doubted Wolfram was going to be very happy with them.

“Shall I just randomly point with my finger on the map?” Gwendal asked sarcastically, as the blond was still silent, calculating. Gwendal opened one of his drawers and retrieved a rolled up map. He unrolled and straightened it on his desk. “Hmm…”

“Here,” Wolfram’s finger shot out unexpectedly, thumping against the paper. 

Gwendal inspected Wolfram’s finger then, when his brother removed it, concentrated on the place it had pointed. Lesa. He resisted the urge to grin. Wolfram must have pointed randomly, just to regain his balance and make sure he was the one to decide instead of Gwendal. The best thing about this was that Wolfram would rather die than admit that.

“Splendid, private von Bielefeld!” Gwendal said. “I’ll send over a message saying you’ll be arriving… Let’s say in two weeks’ time?”

Frowning mistrustfully, Wolfram checked the place his finger had been on a moment ago. He cursed loudly in his head, realizing where he had pointed. True, the fort was far away from the capital, just as he had wished, but nothing, absolutely nothing ever happened on that frontier. The neighboring Kingdom of Kardera wasn’t their ally, but it wasn’t their enemy, either. They didn’t even have any trade contracts with it. It just stayed there, on the other side of the sea, like a large piece of rock, unmovable and useless.

Wolfram looked disappointed and angry with himself but this didn’t bother Gwendal in the slightest. “There’s no need to be so upset. It’s only for six months unless you decide otherwise,” he said meaningfully. Then, he could not help teasing Wolfram: “I heard that the scenery is beautiful there and that there are a few good fishing spots; be sure to vary your ration when you’re off duty.”

If Wolfram’s glare could turn physical, it would have burned a hole in the map. But in a few moments his anger dissipated. One way or another, he had reached his objective – he was getting away from Yuuri.

oOoOo_Four days later_oOoOo

Yuuri watched the squad of assembled soldiers move out of the yard. They belonged to different Shin Makoku lands and he couldn’t even see Wolfram in the middle of varicolored uniforms. Ah, there he was – now he could see the blond head protruding over someone’s shoulder. The blond was too far for him to see whether he was happy to go or upset. Soon, he was swallowed by the uniforms again.

The king’s eyes saw the backs of the men exit the gate. Then, he returned to his desk and took his chair. Thinking, he lowered his hand onto the desk and, habitually, wanted to cross his fingers. Then, he remembered that his left arm was still in a sling. With his good hand, he prodded the ballpoint pen that was lying on the desk next to the documents he had been reading about ten minutes ago. He liked the luxury of his ink-free hands.

“This is my fault, isn’t it?” he stated, without raising his eyes off the pen.

Conrart’s face acquired a painful expression. “No, of course not, Your Majesty.” He hesitated for a few moments then gave his king a tentative smile. “It’s just that Wolfram needs some time to sort his thoughts out.”

Yuuri rolled the pen over the surface of his desk. “He can perfectly well sort them out here. He doesn’t need to go to another side of the country for that.”

Conrart’s smile became strained. “Well, Your Majesty, I would presume it’s still somewhat painful for him.”

Now Yuuri’s thumb was clicking the pen on and off rather aggressively. 

“Your Majesty,” Conrart tried cautiously, “surely you knew that the termination of the engagement would affect your relationship?”

“Of course, I knew,” Yuuri said with indignation. “But I had hoped that somehow…” he fell silent, the pen stopping its incessant clicking as well. “That somehow it wouldn’t come to this,” he finished. “He rarely ever seemed affected any other time when I would…” he trailed off again.

“…not accept his attention?” Conrart offered.

Yuuri understood that his godfather was good at pretending to be nonchalant about this. Now he could tell that deep down Conrart was getting angry with him. Conrart was right – what was the point of fussing over it now when it was already over? This conversation made no sense. If Wolfram had decided that he didn’t want to see his face for awhile then let it be so. As long as it helped Wolfram…to forget, it was fine.

Yuuri’s thumb started torturing the pen again. Probably this was where the problem lay – he didn’t want to be forgotten. There was nothing fine about Wolfram forgetting him.

Yuuri stared at the sheet of paper before his eyes. “I’d like to be informed how he’s getting on there.”

“Probably he will be reporting directly to the general, Your Majesty.”

Yuuri frowned. Gwendal was partly blaming him for what had happened with Wolfram. This meant that whenever asked about how Wolfram was doing, Gwendal would answer a short, clipped “fine.” “Fine” wasn’t informative at all. It would just mean that Wolfram wasn’t dead yet.

“I’ll try to talk to him, Your Majesty,” Conrart said, seeing the expression on Yuuri’s face.

Yuuri let go of the pen and lowered it to the desk. He doubted it would work. The relationship between Wolfram and Gwendal was a strange combination of brotherly-parental affection. Gwendal was the one Wolfram would always turn to for advice. Gwendal was also the one who taught Wolfram everything he knew. And Gwendal was also the one who had the most authority in the house – his word was final.

And because Gwendal’s word was final, it didn’t matter that the rest of the house didn’t agree with Wolfram’s idea to just piss off to the “back of beyond” to mend his broken heart. Yuuri had seen Gwendal and Conrart arguing, but it was to no avail. Wolfram had decided, Gwendal gave his blessing, and nothing else mattered.

Keeping in mind that Gwendal was very protective of Wolfram, this had come as a complete surprise. But when Yuuri thought deeper about it, maybe it shouldn’t have been such a big surprise after all. Gwendal simply wanted to make sure that Wolfram recovered as fast as possible and that the place where Wolfram had chosen to go to was relatively benign. But still…

Yuuri glanced at Conrart, who seemed to have fallen into the depths of his own thoughts. Somehow, he instinctively knew that Conrart had wanted a different relationship with Wolfram, similar to what Gwendal and Wolfram had together. Yuuri had seen how he watched the two interact. Conrart always smiled, but sometimes there was something bitter in that smile. 

Yuuri suspected that this went even deeper. Conrart was his godfather, but he could tell that, sometimes, there was something strange about the way Conrart was babying him. It was very likely that Conrart’s unfulfilled expectations were manifesting in their relationship. Wolfram and he had been about the same age when he first met Conrart. Conrart was giving Yuuri what Wolfram didn’t want. And now Yuuri was receiving twice the affection.

From Conrart, Yuuri averted his eyes back to his desk and to the pen. He took it in his hand. If nothing else, he could at least be allowed to break a pen in protest of Wolfram’s departure.

\---

Wolfram jolted out of his slumber as he felt himself starting to slide sideways. He righted himself on his horse again. It wasn’t Kerda – he had left Kerda at home and was issued a horse from the army. The sun was setting slowly and the horse, having to carry him and a few packs with food, a tent and clothes, was growing tired.

Wolfram yawned and looked around. The expressions on the other soldiers’ faces suggested that his horse was not the only one tired. Keeping in mind that recently Wolfram hadn’t been riding for long periods of time, he was handling the beginning of the journey far better than a handful of other soldiers. However, he was also beginning to feel that his thighs and backside were starting to lead independent lives of their own.

Wolfram was relieved when the sergeant had finally decided that the meadow they were crossing was as good as any other place and gave the order to make camp. Soon, they were done with the task, took care of their horses, and ate dinner around the fire. 

Wolfram noticed that the other soldiers were staying away from him. He had expected a similar reaction – he was nobility after all. He doubted they were happy that he was going to spend half a year together with them. Most of them would probably opt out of such a privilege if given a choice. They didn’t have a choice, however. Neither did he. If he wanted to advance any further, he had to serve six months in the army.

Six months of duty was the requirement for the men who wanted to pass the examination to receive a promotion from a private and then advance further up the chain of command. Wolfram had confidence that it was within his limits to pass all the required tests right up to the captain’s position. He wasn’t as certain about the higher ranks – he didn’t know how he would deal with practical battle simulations where he would have to command thousands of men and come up with strategies of overwhelming the enemy be it on land or the sea.

In fact, Wolfram hadn’t thought much about this after finishing the Military Academy in the von Christ lands. He had considered it but then came the unrest with the neighboring countries. And, after that, Yuuri showed up and Wolfram simply had no time. Later, he hadn’t given a thought about getting a military rank either. He had soldiers from the von Bielefeld lands at his beck and call any time he wished. However, while he was the one to say where and what he wanted them to do, there was always someone else telling them how to do it. He had the inborn right to exercise his power over them but not the rank. 

Six months. From across the fire that had been made to warm some tea, Wolfram looked at the twenty men sitting near it. There were a lot of young privates just like him. The border with Kardera was probably the best starting point for all privates. Not counting a few reports of rabid animals, it was relatively calm and peaceful. 

There were a few older soldiers as well, but they were in the minority. From their relaxed postures and attitudes, Wolfram could tell that serving was going to be a breeze. He hoped that, with time, the other soldiers would warm up to him as well. Half a year was a long time and it was best to maintain friendly relationships. He wasn’t a person who constantly required social contact, but he didn’t want to feel like an outsider either. Nobody wanted that.

Wolfram slapped a mosquito on the back of his neck. He grimaced at the sticky feeling between his fingers; the insect had been pumped with blood already. He wiped his hand on the grass. The men were already drifting off to their tents. Wolfram looked at the three soldiers he was going to share his tent with. One of them stood up and walked to the bushes a bit farther from the fireplace. A soft sigh and a trickle of passing water could be heard. Wolfram grimaced again – oh, the pleasures of nature.

The blond knew that he was somewhat spoiled. And he could guess that people suspected this and that this was going to be one of the reasons why other soldiers were going to stay away from him. He understood as well that most of these young men grew up in packed houses sharing their beds with their brothers and sisters, working in the fields until dusk. There was no time for them to become well-mannered. Being well-mannered didn’t put food on their table.

Once the man was done, not wanting to get caught into a mass of other soldiers doing their personal business, Wolfram was first to walk over to the bushes. He chose a much farther spot from the fire but still, while unbuttoning his trousers, he could hear hushed voices behind him. This was annoying. He had better start looking for friends and fast, while firm groups hadn’t formed yet.

The rest of the week’s trek to the fort was spent just like this – traveling by day and resting at night. The squad also happened to ride into a storm and the last day of the journey was spent in rain. By the time the squad reached the destined fort in the village of Lesa, despite their trench coats, they were drenched to the skin, shivering with cold, and nearly falling off their saddles from fatigue.

They were led into the barracks and shown around. Later, they were assigned their bunks and linens, and the newcomers were informed that they were expected to come to tomorrow’s meeting where they would be briefed on their duties. After that, they had dinner and were left to do whatever they wanted.

The white sheet of rain falling on blurred shapes was all Wolfram could see through the windows. The village was silent in the murky weather. He doubted he would go sightseeing even if he could. He was too tired for that. He was just glad they had finally reached the fort. If they were going to have some free time tomorrow, he thought of going exploring with one or two of the lads he had befriended during the journey.

Tbc


	4. Part 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Kyou Kara Maou! – It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I’m not making any money from writing it.  
> Warnings: yaoi (male x male), violence, swearing, angst, drama. Wolfram-centric, out of character, original character.  
> Summary: With Yuuri’s upcoming birthday, Wolfram makes his decision. Where will it lead him and what is to become of them? Should eventually be Yuuri x Wolfram  
> A/N 1: Yuuri – 18 years old. Wolfram – 20.  
> A/N 2: Greta doesn’t exist.  
> A/N 3: European/American/Japanese standards all at once depending on the plot requirements.  
> A/N 4: The tendency to ignore the anime/manga and supplement the story with my own imagined facts.   
> A/N 5: Season III is not taken into consideration, except for the fact that Wolfram’s uncle exists.  
> A/N 6: The umlaut in Gunter’s name is a bother.

**Bloom**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by HARPG0

Part 4

After spending the night in a room with six other men, Wolfram went to have breakfast and then to a briefing. It was held in a room which was hardly big enough for the present forty people. For some reason, it reeked of alcohol there. The wooden floor and the benches were strewn with darkened stains. The floor was dusty and the three small windows were curtained with cobwebs and dried flies.

First, the newcomers were introduced to their officers and to the old hands at the fort. They were also informed that they were exchanging fifteen men who now were going back to their lands or to other posts. In three weeks’ time, when the newcomers gained some more experience and got used to their surroundings, five additional men were going to leave; the number of soldiers in the fort was usually fixed and amounted to a total of seventy-five men.

The briefing and introductions lasted for about thirty minutes then the rookies were paired up with old hands, given their schedules, and dismissed.

Wolfram looked at the sergeant who had declared himself to be his partner. As with all Demons, it was hard to tell his age, but it was obvious to Wolfram that the sergeant was older than him by at least ten years. His broad face had a healthy tan and he wore his bluish hair short. A few undone buttons at the top of his shirt revealed more of the tan and a tuft of dark blue chest hair. The sleeves of his uniform were rolled up to his elbows and he seemed to be a practical man.

“Tyari Meron,” the man said, holding out his hand.

“Err, yes, sir,” Wolfram said, shaking his hand. Tyari’s grip was firm. “Wolfram von Bielefeld. Pleased to meet you.”

“Likewise,” answered the sergeant, letting go of Wolfram’s hand. “Alright, let’s go to the western turret. I’ll show you around on the way there.”

Together with the other men, Wolfram and Tyari filed out into the corridor. Wolfram followed the sergeant outside into the yard then they separated from the other men and started walking west. Although the mud on the ground had dried, there were still a few large puddles and the day was turning out to be just as the rest of them – sweltering with heat; so far this summer had been extremely hot and humid. Wolfram hoped that at least by the sea it was going to be a little cooler.

While walking across the yard, Wolfram noticed about ten men on the walls. Most of them had crossbows slung over their backs. They were sleepily walking along the landings. 

The fort wasn’t big at all. Add to the fact, the walls were wooden with four large turrets. Wolfram was of the impression that if under attack, it would be more time consuming trying to put out the burning pine balk walls than taking up arms against the enemy. This was an old fort, and he could see the patches of lighter wood where the walls had been repaired over and over.

“Which element do you wield?”

Wolfram averted his eyes from the walls and looked at the sergeant. He quickened his pace after realizing he was lagging a few steps behind Tyari.

“Fire, sir.”

The sergeant met the blond’s eyes. “We usually don’t have many fire-wielders. Most of the soldiers here wield water.”

Wolfram nodded. He was a little surprised at how direct the sergeant was being but decided not to show it. “Yes, it’s understandable, sir; Lesa in on a coast, and the fort is wooden. I was surprised we still had any wooden forts left, sir.”

The sergeant gave Wolfram another appreciative look. The blond interpreted it as a silent question as to why he had chosen Lesa if he had known all that. Wolfram blushed lightly and decided not to answer. 

Seeing that the blond had become a little uncomfortable, Tyari motioned with his hand at the wooden walls. “Actually, a new one is going to be erected in a few years’ time and this one will be torn down. The works on the foundations are going to be started in a few months.”

“Will it be built instead of this one, sir?”

“No. I’ll show you the intended place once we are on the turret.”

They reached the western turret’s stairs and climbed up. From the landing, Wolfram looked around. In front of him, westward, was the sea. The water was blue and the waves were small, moving lazily in windless weather. It was still about a half kilometer walk to the coast itself. About ten tiny houses were strewn further along the coast. There was a pier trailing off into the sea. Around it, Wolfram could just make out a few dots which he guessed were fishing boats.

Lesa had a port but it was of so little importance that no one ever mentioned it. The villagers fished, sowed their infertile fields, raised cattle, and hunted in the nearby woods. It didn’t trade by sea. There had been a few merchants who had tried the sea route but they had been deterred by the storms, the lack of customers, and Kardera’s patrolling fleet, which constantly checked the goods before letting the merchants pass.

Wolfram turned east where he could see the rest of the village. About twenty houses. Most of them were painted yellow – must be the current fashion in the village. He could see a few soldiers riding along the roads. There was also a horse pulling a cart with hay. It was slowly advancing along the road. A villager was sitting on the top of the heap and a few pitchforks were stuck in the hay.

“There.”

Wolfram turned to look in the direction the sergeant was pointing. It was a hill on their left, closer to the pier. He wondered if it came into Shin Makoku’s plans to start building a navy fleet here in Lesa. Very likely not. There must be much more appropriate places for that.

Wolfram looked down at the fort. Surrounded by thick wooden walls, there was the building of barracks, the kitchen and the canteen, the stables, and a warehouse. Wolfram had already seen the most of the fort yesterday while getting his linens and then dining later.

Wolfram’s eyes returned to the sergeant. 

“You stay here until six o’clock,” the sergeant answered to the blond’s questioning eyes. He observed Wolfram’s bare head. “First go to the warehouse and get yourself a cap and then something for lunch. At six o’clock’s the changing of the guard. You’ll be free for the day after that.”

“Yes, sir,” Wolfram nodded, saluting. He started climbing downstairs.

While heading into the warehouse, Wolfram wondered if there had been no one else wanting to pair up with him. He was curious whether or not the sergeant had volunteered or if he had been forced to pair up with him after no one else undertook the task. Tyari, as a sergeant, obviously had his own duties to take care of, and patrolling on a turret for an entire day wasn’t included in them. Well, one way or another, this wasn’t for long, just for three weeks, until the rookies got used to life at the fort.

\---

Day to day life at the fort, which was different from what Wolfram had believed, was a rough adjustment. The first week was quite difficult for him because he wasn’t used to sleeping with so many men in one room. True, he had taken part in a few trips and sorties but he usually had his own tent which he would pitch up further from everyone else’s. During the times he had needed to sleep in one space with other men, he slept poorly, but that was fixed once he returned home to his tent or stayed in an inn. However, here he had to simply endure.

Another thing was the food. Most of it was obtained from the village. It was varied and nourishing, including: fish, poultry, vegetables, flour, beef, pork, and lamb. The problem was that Wolfram had difficulties getting used to the meals they were turned into. There were quite a few dishes specific only to this part of the country. Sometimes, the cooks showed their skill in offering meals from other lands or even other countries. Still, Wolfram found this torturous; he had always had a sensitive stomach.

He also couldn’t appreciate the inn his friends had shown him in the village. It was an old, rundown building. The first time Wolfram visited it, the owner managed to find a forgotten bottle of old wine in his cellar, but there was nothing else to delight Wolfram’s mouth during his next visits. He hated the beer the soldiers were drinking with absolute bliss on their faces. He hated the rum even more. During the next two months, he gained quite a reputation while drinking nothing else but tea and water.

He had made friends with two rookies and there was the sergeant, who he still talked to even after the trial period of three weeks had been over. He and his friends hung out after their patrol or watch hours around in the barracks, the seashore or the village. There weren’t very many things one could do at the fort. Everybody played cards and flirted with the girls (sometimes lads) from the village. Not that they ever allowed themselves to be picked up; they flirted back but it was strictly for sport. Wolfram had also tried to fish from the pier but realized that he preferred swimming. Soldiers also went mushrooming or gather berries but only the villagers knew best places for that. There was also a lake five kilometers away from the village and Wolfram liked it better than the salty water of the sea.

Overall, the villagers had a strange approach to the fort and the soldiers in general. During the first month of his service, Wolfram had received orders to find and retrieve a cow which had broken loose from its chain, then to get a cat out of a pine tree, and help weed a field of potatoes for a granny whose hardworking son had recently died of a stroke. The villagers would also run for the fort if rain caught them by surprise half-way home. Sometimes, Wolfram felt that he belonged to the “Association of Good Samaritans”. From time to time, though, the villagers offered the soldiers small tokens of free milk, carrots, potatoes, and meat.

The first letter he wrote to Gwendal was to inform him that he had arrived and settled in. The second one was about his noble achievements in the village and a disruptive hole in his sock. Gwendal’s reply, which Wolfram received five days later, included a package of a few needles and some darning thread. Gwendal also wrote to him that not everyone had to slay a dragon to get promoted and advised him to be patient and take pleasure in little joys. Wolfram read this letter just after he had stepped into one of the little joys a flock of chickens had left in the fort.

The correspondence was delivered by winged skeletons, which flew back and forth over Shin Makoku’s lands without getting tired. In comparison to Human lands, the post system in Shin Makoku was more advanced and the skeletons reached the destination faster than commonly used pigeons or postmen on horses.

Gwendal’s letters informed him about what was happening at home and about the latest events in the country. His letters were not the only ones Wolfram was waiting for. However, Yuuri never sent one. Eventually, two months had passed and there was no sight of it. Wolfram was angry, but mostly he was angry with himself for even waiting for it.

With time, standing watch for hours and hours became easier. He also became quite skilled with a crossbow. However, there was another thing Wolfram hadn’t taken into the account – patrolling and standing watch left plenty of time to think. And the thoughts that found way into his head were not always pleasant. 

He was thinking a lot about Yuuri and what happened between them. He was glad he had found strength in himself to dissolve that fruitless engagement. However, being glad about it did nothing to his longing for Yuuri. People frequently said that there was always plenty of fish in the sea but it was hard to convince himself of this when the only fish he wanted was Yuuri. 

Mostly, dark thoughts would come to him when he stood watch at night, alone in his existence, only burning torches farther down the walls reminding him of other people. Sometimes, he would submerge into self-pity so deep that he wanted to cry. He hated himself for this weakness.

Wolfram sometimes wondered if Yuuri had thought of him as a joke. No, not him, but rather his feelings and the whole idea of a man having a relationship with another man. Both of them had been raised in completely different environments. It had been so unfortunate for him to fall in love with a foreigner. 

Now and then, there were times when he would realize that he couldn’t even begin to understand what Yuuri’s thoughts were on the subject. It, somehow, felt slippery. Yuuri didn’t seem to abhor the idea itself but anything beyond that made him awkward, skittish, timid, or even angry. He didn’t want to have anything to do with it and rather treated it as a contagious disease. Maybe, that was exactly what it looked like to Yuuri.

Their characters were very different as well, they also had different interests and the gap had only been increasing with Yuuri constantly absent. He had been getting older faster than Yuuri and, naturally, had wanted something substantial from him. Were he a woman, would Yuuri have answered his feelings? Now Wolfram doubted that. 

His musings at the fort had brought him a revelation in a month: Yuuri was an admirer. He liked to watch pretty people but rarely got involved. He flirted but never got serious. It was very likely that Yuuri had never been in love with anyone and didn’t even want to be. He probably didn’t even understand what it felt like to be in love with someone. And, now that he was thinking about it, Wolfram suspected that he was the one who had made love seem such an unwanted and complicated matter to Yuuri.

Wolfram found this humorous, but mostly the “bitter” kind. This led him to thinking that if he had somehow gone about it differently, he might have had a chance. This, in return, brought more regret and pain than it helped.

He wished he could just cross Yuuri out of his memory. No, rather to tear a page off the calendar that said: “A day of falling in love with Yuuri.” He didn’t want to forget Yuuri, not really. He simply didn’t want to feel pain every time he thought about him. This was going to come, of course, with time. The pain would subside, then disappear, and then one day the only thing left from it at all would be a melancholic nostalgia. For now, though, Yuuri persecuted him in his thoughts, people’s mouths, news bulletins, and his wet dreams.

\---

It was seven o’clock in the evening when Wolfram, together with another soldier, rode out on his usual patrol. They had to patrol the north sector of the fort, along the coast, a distance of about seven kilometers. There was usually not a living soul when the sun would set. The villagers were hard-working people and went to sleep early so that they could start the new day with vigor. At night, all Wolfram could hear were wolves howling, nightingales singing, and toads croaking. Farther in the distance, he would spot an occasional deer or a few fireflies. 

It had been an overcast day, and the evening was getting even worse. The air was cool as well. The thick fog was rising from the sea and coiling around, covering the land. It wasn’t raining yet, which Wolfram thought was fortunate. Patrolling in the rain was not his favorite pastime.

Riding alongside the coast, the two of them spent their time talking about horses and life at the fort. Wolfram didn’t particularly like Derek but maintaining an easygoing conversation was much better than staying quiet. All the time they were talking, the fog was creeping out from the sea, thickening. It was getting dark as well and soon it was hard to see anything at all.

Around midnight, Wolfram and Derek’s conversation started drying up and soon they just quietly rode side to side, trying to see what was in front of them. Wolfram felt sleepy; his thoughts that this patrolling wasn’t very useful did nothing to dissipate his lethargy. It had gotten cold and he wrapped himself tighter into his trench coat.

“Hey, there!”

The alarm in Derek’s voice made Wolfram’s head shoot up and follow his hand which was pointing towards the sea. In the distance, there were a few glowing circles afloat in the fog. The glow did not pierce the air but rather seemed like small oases of light. At first, Wolfram stared at them, not understanding, then it dawned on him.

“A ship.”

Derek nodded.

“Whose?”

“Probably just one of Kardera’s patrolling ships. It must have wandered off course in this fog.”

Wolfram watched the softly moving lights amidst the fog. Derek was probably right. Wolfram wondered what they should do now.

“I suppose, we should tell them to clear off,” Derek suggested. “They are in Shin Makoku’s territory.”

Wolfram measured the distance from the shore to the ship. It was hard to tell with the fog but the ship seemed to be far away. “Well, you’re welcome to take a swim,” he said. “Besides, I don’t think they would understand what you’re saying.”

“They must have someone on board who understands at least one of Shin Makoku’s dialects.”

Wolfram shrugged. He watched the ship indecisively.

“We still have to somehow clear this,” Derek said, turning his horse forward and cupping his hands around his mouth.

Wolfram urged his horse closer to him. “Stop it,” he hissed smacking at Derek’s hands. “We don’t know for sure if those are Karderians.”

“Who else can it be?” Derek snorted and Wolfram felt that if he weren’t a von Bielefeld, Derek would have smacked him back.

“Anyone with a ship; we can’t see anything in this f-” 

At the sound of an arrow whipping past, Wolfram flung himself off the horse and to the ground. Derek, with an arrow protruding from his chest, hit the sand a few seconds later. The whipping sound repeated. Wolfram’s horse neighed painfully and reared. The blond yelped and jerked backward, rolling out of the way so as not to be trampled on. The horse bolted suddenly and Derek’s horse followed it, dragging Derek’s body after it, with his foot caught in the stirrup. 

“Get them!”

“The horses! The horses!”

Wolfram pushed himself off the sand and started running away from the voices. As long as he kept his distance, they would be not able to see him and then he would have time to come up with something. Shouts and footsteps behind him indicated that he was being chased. His trench coat flapping, Wolfram ran in the direction of the wood which he knew was supposed to be somewhere on his left. 

Farther off the coast, the fog wasn’t as thick but, even if he could finally see where he was running, whoever was chasing him could also see him. Wolfram felt naked, and, regardless, he had to cross the distance as soon as he could.

Panting, he ran into the wood. After having run among trees in the dark for about two hundred meters, he stopped. If his persecutors weren’t Demons as well, he had a better chance with his superior vision. But, even then, he had had a hard time avoiding running into trees. 

Suffocating in the thick air, Wolfram leaned his back against a tree and slid down to the ground. Through the blood pounding in his ears, he could vaguely hear voices. He swallowed loudly and panted further while trying to catch his breath. Thoughts were shooting across his mind like burning arrows: Derek dead; alone; horses away; many men; who?; the ship; had to warn; alone; too far; wh-

A twig snapped somewhere behind him and Wolfram jumped to his feet, whirling around. A branch that collided with Wolfram’s forehead tossed him backwards into the moss where he dropped unconscious.

“It’s good to have an earth-wielder around,” the man who had hit Wolfram said, tossing the branch aside. 

The second man, to whom the words were directed, agreed with a grin, “Yeah, you certainly wouldn’t have found him without me.” He started fiddling with the lantern in his hand and soon the light twinkled inside. Then, he drew his sword and moved toward Wolfram, intending to finish him off. 

“What?” the other man asked as, instead of skewering the unconscious man, the tip of his comrade’s blade ran over his chest hesitantly.

“Look at the ring on his right hand; he might be of some use.”

The man came closer and took a look at Wolfram’s hand. He leaned down and grasped the blond’s fingers to pull the signet ring off. “WB,” he muttered, after taking a closer look at the initials on the ring in the lantern’s shadowy light. “Clearly some nob.” Putting the ring into his pocket, he peered at Wolfram’s face more closely. “Very pretty.”

“Indeed.” The earth-wielder sheathed his sword slowly. “Let’s take him to the captain. Maybe he will want to ransom; his folks must be loaded with money.”

“Yeah,” the other man agreed. He took another look at the blond’s face, calculating. “The captain might want to keep him, though,” he said. “Or sell, maybe.” He watched his comrade tie the blond’s hands. Then, he turned around to look behind himself. “Let’s retrace our steps – I want to look for my sword. It was a good one.”

“Forget it. It’s too dark; you won’t find it.”

“I lost it when we were rolling down that slope.”

“Alright, let’s go, but you will be the one to carry the lad.”

\---

Wolfram’s ears were registering soft thumping sounds but there was no telling what they were. His eyelids fluttered open. Absolutely disoriented, he stared with blurry eyes in front of him. Something was whirring in his head and it was throbbing with excruciating pain. He whimpered and closed his eyes again, letting his muddled mind drift away.

His sense of time was warped as well. When Wolfram opened his eyes again, he wasn’t certain whether it had been hours or seconds since the last time he had closed them. The throbbing in his head hadn’t subsided, either. Swallowing loudly, he tried to orient himself in his surroundings. 

He found himself staring at a wooden ceiling. He could feel that he was lying on something equally hard. Slowly, Wolfram’s head turned to look around the space surrounding him. A lantern was burning farther on a table. Its feeble light hardly illuminated the area, leaving Wolfram to instinctively guess what the shadows were hiding. Wolfram closed his eyes again as his efforts brought him a spell of dizziness. His stomach bubbled and he swallowed the saliva that had flooded his mouth suddenly. Something wasn’t right. Through the confusing mist and pounding pain that veiled his mind, he couldn’t grasp what it was, but there was something wrong.

His stomach suddenly decided that it wanted out and Wolfram turned sideways. While doing so, he found that his hands and feet were bound. Despite this, he managed to turn on his side.

“What the?”

Retching, Wolfram caught movement at the table. The shadows stirred and grew taller, turning into figures of three grown men. Someone let out a sound filled with disgust. 

“Fuck!”

One of the men kicked Wolfram in the back and he toppled forward into his own vomit. That resulted in another bout of retching. Wolfram’s head throbbed madly and his consciousness started slipping again. The last thing he felt was someone pulling him by his clothes, returning his body into the position on his side again.

“Make sure he doesn’t choke.”

Tbc


	5. Part 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Kyou Kara Maou! – It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I’m not making any money from writing it.  
> Warnings: yaoi (male x male), violence, swearing, angst, drama. Wolfram-centric, out of character, original character.  
> Summary: With Yuuri’s upcoming birthday, Wolfram makes his decision. Where will it lead him and what is to become of them?  
> A/N 1: Yuuri – 18 years old. Wolfram – 20.  
> A/N 2: Greta doesn’t exist.  
> A/N 3: European/American/Japanese standards all at once depending on the plot requirements.  
> A/N 4: The tendency to ignore the anime/manga and supplement the story with my own imagined facts.   
> A/N 5: Season III is not taken into consideration, except for the fact that Wolfram’s uncle exists.  
> A/N 6: The umlaut in Gunter’s name is a bother.

**Bloom**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by HARPG0

Part 5

When Wolfram came to the next time, it was completely dark around him. Even though he couldn’t see anything, this time his mind was much clearer. His head still hurt and he was dizzy, but it didn’t hinder him from remembering the three men who hadn’t been exactly friendly with him. His hands and feet were still bound and he could hardly feel them at all. Wolfram could tell that he was in the same exact place he was before losing his consciousness: he was still lying on the same hard, wooden floor and there had to be a table somewhere farther off. He could hear soft voices coming from somewhere far away. But, in the room, he didn’t hear any sounds of breathing, indicating a guard. However, he didn’t give into the temptation to think that he was alone, either – his ears were buzzing with what he knew was only in his head.

He moved his hands and feet, but his numb limbs hardly listened to him. The ropes didn’t even budge. He tried to call on his fire element, but the only reward for his efforts was a pang of excruciating pain behind his eyes. He moaned and lay still for a few moments, waiting for the feeling to subside. 

There was not even a tiny source of light. It also reeked of vomit. A few minutes later, Wolfram also became aware of the gentle continuous creaking. There was also a soft sway as if… 

A ship. 

He was on board a ship! A flash of panic shot through Wolfram. He instinctively hated ships. To be on one against his will and to be taken gods knew where was abominable. It also meant he could not escape – most likely, there was only water where the eye could see. He also didn’t know who these men were. From the last time he had woken up, he could remember that he heard them speak one of Shin Makoku dialects and then there was also another language he hadn’t understood. 

What if war broke out and they really were Karderians just like Derek had said? Possible? Yes, but Wolfram’s mind could only wrap around the presumption with difficulty. Kardera was much smaller than Shin Makoku. It had quite large military forces, though, including a grand navy. Kardera’s foreign policy wasn’t aggressive but it frequently clashed with one or two of its neighbors. It was mostly due to the fact that Kardera was rich in minerals and there were many who wanted to lay their hands on them. 

Kardera had also many allies. That and its navy were the main reasons a lot of countries tiptoed around Kardera. Kardera had a grand armada. Shin Makoku had a lot of fishing boats. If Kardera decided to use its navy, Shin Makoku would be blocked from the outside world in an instant. Throughout history, there had been a few wars between the two countries, but they had been waged because of obligation to their allies. Otherwise, Kardera and Shin Makoku didn’t care much about each other’s existence. Shin Makoku had its own natural resources. Frequently, Shin Makoku had trouble with dealing with rebels in its own territory as well as beating off Human attacks from other countries. Kardera was frequently busy with waging war with its other neighbors, earning capital from exports, and lending the strength of its navy to its allies.

If war had really started… No, Wolfram didn’t even want to think about it. In fact, he hoped that the ship didn’t belong to Kardera at all.

Slowly, Wolfram pushed himself off the floor and into a kneeling position. Changing his position into one where his head was higher that the rest of his body brought him another spell of dizziness. He had to support himself with his bound hands so as not to fall over.

Tugging at his bonds with his teeth did nothing. Trying to untie his feet was even more impossible as his numb fingers didn’t listen to him. Giving up on that thought, Wolfram got on all fours and moved carefully through the dark room towards the table he knew was there. He scrambled onto the bench and started groping around on the table. He shrank back as his hands sent something tumbling off the table and onto the wooden floor. Wolfram waited for a handful of seconds while listening carefully, but it was quiet and he continued searching. He grimaced as his hands sank into something cold, wet, and squishy. Porridge, maybe? 

He didn’t find anything he could cut the ropes with but found the lantern he had been looking for. It was on the very edge of the table, and the matches were lying right next to it. Trying to strike a light with his hands bound appeared to be an even more difficult task than trying to untie his bonds. He couldn’t keep hold of a tiny match and the matchbox simply kept dropping from his numb fingers.

Frustrated and anxious with the amount of time it was taking him, Wolfram tried to call on his fire element again. This time, the pain was so sharp that Wolfram’s whole body jerked and shrank into itself, the spasm making him slam his forehead against the table.

In a few seconds, the pain stated retreating and the colorful dots in Wolfram’s eyes began to disappear. He stayed absolutely still, panting for air, with his forehead pressed to the table. Once he could breathe normally, he continued trying to strike a match. When he finally succeeded, he was ready to kiss the matchbox.

Wolfram looked around. It was a cabin. He could see five hammocks arranged at the walls. The door was on his right. Wolfram slid off the bench and crawled over to it. Supporting himself against it, he stood up and pressed on the handle. The door creaked open. There was a small corridor behind it with four other doors. At the end of the corridor, there was a staircase with tiny specks of light coming down from somewhere above.

Hopping was out of the question as even the tiniest jolt sent a spark of searing pain through his brain. Crawling along the wall, he reached the stairs and then started making slow progress upwards. There was a hatch at the top of the stairs. Gently, Wolfram pressed at it with his hands to lift it a fraction. The light momentarily blinded him.

When he could see again, he suddenly became aware of a pair of boots walking towards him. His peripheral vision hindered him to see who it was. But no matter who it was, Wolfram didn’t want to be seen and slid downstairs. He was too slow, though, and for a few seconds he and the man, who now was on the stairs, were staring at each other. Then, the man moved forward to grab Wolfram.

The blond hung onto the railing and slid sideways, at the same time shouldering the incomer as hard as he could. The man’s legs intertwined and he started tumbling downstairs, but at the last minute, he managed to take hold of the railing and balance himself. He turned around, his eyes snapping at Wolfram with rage. What he had least expected was the blond bearing down on his chest with his bound feet.

Panting, his head throbbing madly, Wolfram stared at the man downstairs. The hatch was still open and he could see a sword at the man’s side. The man was twitching lightly. He was going to come round soon.

Wolfram unclasped his fingers off the railing and slid towards the man. He pulled the sword halfway out of its sheath and ground the rope against it. A shadow fell over him and Wolfram raised his head to see a silhouette at the top of the stairs. Wolfram’s hands were free now and he drew the sword all the way. He started working on the rope around his ankles.

“Oh, awake.”

Wolfram did not have the luxury of lifting his eyes again in case he cut his legs: the blade was sharp and his fingers were shaky. Once the rope was off, he stood up and leaned against the wall behind him.

The man who had been watching Wolfram’s progress drew his sword as well. With interest, he waited for the blond’s next action. It was obvious that the blond was having trouble with keeping himself upright.

“Captain?”

Wolfram squinted upwards against the light to see a man approach the one on the stairs. He saw the second man peer past his captain’s shoulder down at him. After seeing the blond, he said something in a language Wolfram didn’t understand.

“Come up here,” the captain motioned for Wolfram. “Drop the sword and we won’t harm you. It’s pointless to resist anyway. There’re a few dozens of my men on the deck and we are in the open sea.”

“I’d be very much obliged, sir, if I were allowed to keep it,” Wolfram said. “Strictly for self-defense, of course.”

The captain laughed. Wolfram saw him look around as if gauging what his men thought of this. Then, he shrugged. “Very well. But one wrong move and you will find one or two limbs of yours missing.”

Wolfram nodded slowly. He didn’t want to leave the narrow corridor where he had at least some chance of defending himself but if what the captain was telling was true, there was no point in holding his position here. Barricading himself here would only bring a slow death from thirst and hunger.

With his sword at the ready, Wolfram dragged himself upstairs. He blinked slowly, letting his eyes adjust to the bright light. The captain hadn’t lied – there were over twenty men on the upper deck. All of them were watching him like a cat watches a mouse. 

They were pirates. 

Wolfram had suspected this but now, seeing the men’s various clothing, and no flag on the mast, it became painfully apparent. Most of them also had faces which, if seen, were best to avoid as much at night as in the daylight. Wolfram’s eyes wandered over the board. He swallowed loudly. Needless to say, he didn’t feel well and to suddenly see the vast water all around suddenly made his stomach spasm. He doubled over and retched. 

“Can it be that you’re seasick?” the captain wondered aloud while watching Wolfram heaving with dry spasms. “My men have complained to me about the mess you’ve made downstairs.”

Wolfram didn’t answer anything to that. “What,” he breathed out, “are you going to do with me?” His head was spinning again and he wanted to lean against something very badly.

“Well, first,” he counted off on his fingers, “you’re going to tell me your name, then clean up your vomit off yourself and my ship, and then we’ll see.”

“You’re a Demon,” Wolfram stated although he wasn’t very certain.

The captain nodded. “That’s right. And?”

Wolfram tried to think. This meant that they were not from around here. The crew was of various nationalities and races and they didn’t know him. How, in the world, did they appear here? And, even more importantly, what in the world, was Kardera’s almighty navy doing allowing pirates to freely frequent their territory? 

Ah right, the fog.

“Oh my,” the captain said looking down at Wolfram, whose legs had just folded underneath him and now he was lying flat on the deck. His eyes set on the sword the blond was holding apart from his body. “It’s best you dropped the blade after all. Not that we care much, but try not to kill yourself – maybe there’s still some use to you.”

Despite the general weakness, Wolfram managed to blush. To his embarrassment, the man was right. Then Wolfram’s eyelids fluttered shut and he drifted off into darkness.

\---

When Wolfram woke up, he found that he had been allowed to keep the liberty of unbound hands and feet. The next thing he noticed was that the jacket of his uniform was missing and now he was wearing only his shirt. Reluctantly, he put this down to the jacket being covered in filth and smelling like a pile of shit. His face wasn’t covered in his vomit anymore as well. Mainly, he thought this was because he was in a bed which was relatively clean and it clearly belonged to someone. He didn’t have his boots on, either.

Wolfram was in a different cabin than the one he had been in before. There was no oil lamp burning but the door wasn’t closed and the light from the outside allowed him to see what was where. He looked around the cabin but the sword he had picked up earlier was nowhere to be seen. This was not a big surprise. A big surprise would have been if he had been allowed to keep it. 

The blond took another look at the cabin. It was, just like the bed, relatively clean. It was cluttered but somehow it managed to create some sense of order: clothes were in the pile with clothes, a few maps and books were stacked in a small cupboard. Two pairs of boots were in one corner, hats in another. Wolfram noticed a spyglass and took it. It could not be compared to a sword but it was better than nothing.

Wolfram’s boots were beside the bed and he pulled them on. When he walked out into the corridor, he saw that he had been in a cabin farthest from the stairs. Keeping in mind that there was only one bed in it, he suspected that it was the captain’s cabin.

“Oh, our sleeping beauty is up again.”

Instinctively, Wolfram drew himself back into the cabin and raised the spyglass in a defensive gesture, preparing to hit the man who had appeared from the opposite door to the cabin.

“Why so unfriendly?” the captain chuckled. “And to think I carried you all the way downstairs…”

Wolfram’s hand faltered. The captain was casually holding his sword, carving a hole on the door casing just next to him. Wolfram lowered the spyglass to the ground. Remembering the previous experience, he didn’t even try summoning his fire element in case it would do more damage than be useful; the man in front of him was a Demon as well, he could not risk failing.

“That’s a good boy.”

Wolfram stiffened as the blade neared his throat. It didn’t press against his skin but it was uncomfortably close. Keeping his eyes on the sword, Wolfram stepped back deeper into the cabin.

“Shall I tie you up again? You seem very resourceful…”

“I need to go to the bathroom,” Wolfram blurted out before he could stop himself. His bladder was bursting and if he was going to be tied up again….

“Well, yes, I suppose you do,” the captain nodded. He moved aside, freeing the path to the door. “Don’t take too long, though,” he warned, sheathing his sword. “There are a few matters we need to discuss.”

Bypassing the man in a quite wide circle, Wolfram kept his eyes on him, watching out for any sudden movement. The captain didn’t even move a muscle.

“Where is the bathroom?” Wolfram asked.

“Well, it depends. If you want to take a piss, just let it fountain over the board. If you’re up for more serious business, then there’s a bucket in the stern. Just pour it out into the sea when you’re done.”

The captain was watching him intently and Wolfram realized that the man was gauging his reaction. The captain chuckled when he understood that Wolfram was aware of that.

“You’re pretty smart, aren’t you, rich boy? And here I thought I’d amuse myself to my heart’s content. I must commend you for not killing Ariba as well.”

“I’d never get away from here alive if I had,” Wolfram muttered.

“Yes,” the captain nodded. “I’m glad you understand that.” His tone was conversational but Wolfram could feel the steel underneath. “But don’t let me detain you.”

There were about ten men on the upper deck. Two were fixing a fishnet, three cleaning the fish, one was up in the crow’s nest, others just lazing about or tinkering with ropes. All activity was ceased as soon as they noticed Wolfram marching toward the end of the ship.

The bucket indeed was there just as the captain had said. It was also tied to the railing so that it would not get washed away into the sea during a storm. Wolfram turned around to see the pirates staring at him. He hoped he could manage to get away from this ship very fast. Otherwise, there was the prospect of some very serious constipation.

The board was pretty high and he looked around for something to stand on. A wooden box lay nearby and he brought it closer. Emptying his bladder into the sea didn’t cause him as much discomfort as he had expected because, once he started it, the only thing he could think about was how good it felt after having held it in for such a long time. However, the problem was the sea itself. He belatedly realized that it would have been better if he had closed his eyes. He hardly managed to button up his trousers as he doubled over the board, his body heaving. There was some bile at first. Later, there were only dry heaves.

Dizzily, Wolfram held onto the board, feeling the headache return. He felt someone prying his fingers off the board and was glad of it because the box under his feet didn’t feel stable and he wasn’t that certain he wouldn’t fall into the water. Suddenly, he felt he was lying on the deck.

“And what are we going to do with you? You get seasick every five minutes.” The captain scratched his chin in thought. “Wait…You are a fire wielder, aren’t you?”

Wolfram ignored the captain. He still felt like gagging, but now that he had concentrated on staring upwards at the sky, his stomach seemed to be settling. He could see half of the captain’s face hovering above him.

“And a powerful one at that,” the captain continued. “There’s always something disagreeable between the sea and fire wielders.”

“I,” Wolfram heaved, “I just don’t like it moving!”

The captain laughed softly. He pulled Wolfram up onto his unsteady feet. “Let’s get you downstairs,” he said, starting to lead the blond. “It seems it’s best to keep you where you can’t see it or you’ll end up puking your guts out.”

Wolfram allowed himself to be led to the cabin he had been in before and laid down onto the bed. His plans didn’t include anything else except for lying still at the moment. He jerked at something cool and wet pressing to his forehead.

“It’s just a wet rag,” the captain said. “There’s a large lump on your forehead. Foren is a strong lad. You’d probably be dead if you were a Human.”

The coolness felt heavenly on Wolfram’s skin. He felt like drifting away again but a few light slaps on his face brought him back.

“Don’t get too comfortable. There’re still a few things we need to discuss.”

“I am thirsty,” Wolfram said, sitting up, holding the wet rag on his forehead so that it wouldn’t fall off.

The captain rolled his eyes. However, he said nothing and rounded the bed to get to a wooden box on the other side of it. After opening its lid, he pulled out a bottle.

“Just water would be fine,” Wolfram said at the sight of the green bottle.

“It is water. These bottles are convenient to keep small amounts of it instead of going to retrieve some from the kitchen or hold.”

Only after emptying half of the bottle at once did Wolfram realize how thirsty he had been. He wasn’t certain about the last time he had eaten, either. Things had gotten out of hand. 

While drinking, Wolfram had time to take a better look at the captain. It was hard to tell his age as with all Demons, but with him in the captain’s position Wolfram guessed that he was at least over fifty. He looked young, though. If he were a human, one would think he was in his early twenties. His face was round but unexpectedly hard with narrow eyes, a small mouth and tanned skin. His short hair was brown. It was dark but it was probably because it needed washing. He wore no mustache, which Wolfram usually associated with pirates. Maybe, he was shaving it really thoroughly or it wasn’t growing in yet, which would mean the captain was less than forty. The man was heavily built, which was the only thing matching his big round face.

“How long have I been here?” Wolfram asked after having glugged the bottle down to the last drop. He returned it to the captain.

“For two days.” Wolfram looked startled and the captain laughed. Then his face got serious. “It’s very simple. If you want to leave here alive, you’ll behave. Now listen, your folks must be swimming in money. Tell me your name, we will arrange a nice little exchange and you’ll be free to go. We will even allow you to keep all of your fingers.”

Wolfram considered this. He was fond of his fingers but he wasn’t certain his uncle was as fond of him. After the death of his brother and Wolfram’s father, Waltorana became the regent ruling the von Bielefeld land until Wolfram was ready to return and claim it as his. If Wolfram never returned…well, then Waltorana wouldn’t need to return the land to anyone.

In spite of thinking this, Wolfram was certain that Waltorana would pay up. He simply wanted to bear all the possibilities in mind. Besides, if not Waltorana, then he could rely on his brother or Yuuri. The thought about Yuuri made him cringe, though. It would be better if this didn’t reach Yuuri. He could barely imagine bigger shame: he had gone away against all protests and then had gotten himself kidnapped. If, in the end, Yuuri would have to pay for him… No, he would rather deal with his uncle.

“Wolfram von Bielefeld,” Wolfram muttered after a long pause during which it seemed that the captain was going to lose his temper. “You can send a letter to my uncle Waltorana von Bielefeld. He will pay.”

The captain’s face clouded over. “Von Bielefeld?” he repeated slowly, realizing that his men had sunk their teeth into a very large piece of meat, maybe even too large. “Are you in any way related to Gwendal von Voltaire?”

“He is my half-brother.”

The captain held back a curse. As if being a von Bielefeld wasn’t enough, the youth was also a brother to the general of Shin Makoku’s army himself. If not handled carefully, this might end with him and his men being hunted by half of the world.

“I’ve never gotten along with “ _vons_ ” but you seem a very promising lad,” the captain finally said, clapping Wolfram’s shoulder. “Let’s hope your uncle does pay.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

“As said, a few fingers or an ear might convince him to.”

“And if he still doesn’t?”

The captain slowly drew his index finger across his throat. “Then you’re dead, my boy. But don’t worry, I’m certain your uncle will be generous. After all, what’s a few thousand for the von Bielefelds?”

Wolfram lay down and adjusted the now warm rag on his forehead. He thought he ought to ask for food but with repetitive bouts of sickness, he didn’t feel hungry.

“I told you my name, so I’d be very obliged to know yours,” Wolfram muttered.

“You can call me Sharp Ronny.”

“Alright,” Wolfram said before falling asleep.

He woke up to someone prodding him. Dizzily, he looked around. The cabin was dark but he didn’t need light to realize that there was someone else with him in the bed. Actually, that “someone” had thrown an arm over his waist. Wolfram frowned. He remembered he was the one taking the captain’s bed. Sharp Ronny saw no reason to surrender his comfortable nest to a newcomer. But it was not as though he had come onto the ship willingly.

Wolfram shifted carefully and peered at the man beside him. If he took Ronny hostage, then maybe he would have a chance to get away from this damn ship. However, there were always those who were underneath and couldn’t wait to step up a ladder. Suddenly, there might be someone saying that if the captain was stupid enough to be taken hostage, then it served him right to die.

Was it even worth a try? He was treated pretty well and all he had to do was to sit still and wait for Waltorana to pay the ransom. He was fairly certain that he would be released as soon as the money was paid – there were no idiots who would want to have the entire country of Shin Makoku as their mortal enemy. Of course, his pride hurt somewhat but there was no point in taking stupid risks. It was better to feel pride hurting than to be dead or crippled for the rest of his life.

Grumbling, Wolfram turned on his side and pushed the offending arm off himself. He still didn’t feel well but at least he felt thirsty and somewhat hungry. He slipped out of the bed and stumbled to the wooden box at the other side of the bed. He opened it and started looking for a bottle with water blindly.

Wolfram shrieked in surprise as he was grabbed suddenly and thrown down onto the bed. He lay there perfectly still as he felt something cool and sharp press to his neck.

“Looking for something?”

Wolfram didn’t dare speak. Then he felt the blade move a little away from his neck. “Water,” he mumbled, shaken up. “Thirsty,” he added, feeling his heartbeat drumming in his ears. He suddenly felt sick again.

The blade retreated and Wolfram had to close his eyes as, in a few seconds, a lantern flared to life. The captain inspected the bottle Wolfram’s fingers were still wrapped around. Then he saw the blond’s hand travel to his mouth.

“The bucket is at the door,” Sharp Ronny said, taking the bottle from Wolfram.

For a few second he listened to the blond gagging over the bucket then lifted his pillow to hide the dagger under it again. He took a look at the bottle again. Wolfram had gotten a bottle of brandy. Sighing, the captain rolled out of the bed and put it back into the box. Then he found a bottle with water.

“Come here,” he motioned as it seemed that the bout of sickness was over. “Search through your pockets,” he said after Wolfram had staggered over to the bed. 

Wolfram did so and he felt something small and hard in his left pocket. He pulled it out then started and dropped it to the floor after realizing what it was. 

An Esoteric Stone.

“Sorry about that, darling,” the captain said, petting Wolfram’s hair. “It was just in case you tried something funny.”

Wolfram smacked at his hand, glaring. It was no wonder he had felt so wretched and hadn’t been able to call on his element. The captain just kept grinning at him and Wolfram flopped onto the bed, irritated. 

“Here’s your water and wash your mouth first.”

Wolfram grabbed the bottle from the captain’s hand and went back to the bucket. He already felt better. He rinsed his mouth then drank the rest of the bottle. When he returned to the bed, the captain was already slumbering. A loud fart echoed in the room.

“Oh god,” Wolfram choked out, waving his hands in front of him. He had hoped he had gotten used to this in the barracks, but could still not keep the disgust out of his voice.

“Come here,” Sharp Ronny said, lifting the cover.

Wolfram turned his face away from the cloud of putrid stench and lay on his side, scowling. He startled as an arm wrapped around his waist again then slid down to pat him on the front of his trousers.

“Well, maybe, if your uncle appears to be one mean asshole, I’ll just keep you for myself.”

Speechless, Wolfram lay without moving a muscle for a few seconds. He didn’t really understand the situation but this was sexual harassment, right?

“Don’t count on it,” Wolfram said finally.

Tbc


	6. Part 6

Thank you very much for all the kudos :)

**Bloom**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by HARPG0

Part 6

It was early morning and Wolfram was scrubbing the floor on the upper deck. He had previously cleaned one cabin downstairs. His vomit had already dried up and it had taken time to wash it off. He was disgusted to think the pirates slept in the mess like it was nothing, but figured that they had seen and smelt worse.

The pirates didn’t pay Wolfram much attention. It seemed to him that he had become an errand boy. A pile of dirty clothing had already been assembled for him in one of the cabins and was waiting to be washed right after he was done with the floor. 

Wolfram was too worn out to accept this as a joke or humiliation or to react in any way at all, really. This simply reminded him of his first month at barracks when all the newcomer soldiers were required to do some serious housekeeping. He had had blisters on his hands from washing and darning clothes.

Despite what he had expected, after getting rid of the Esoteric Stone from his pocket, he didn’t feel much better. He still had bouts of headaches and sickness. The pirates found his reaction to the sea funny. They probably thought that it should pass in a day or two. However, Wolfram knew that it wouldn’t. It never did. No matter how many times he had been on board with Yuuri, it was still the same – he hated the sea.

As long as it wasn’t very wavy and he wasn’t looking at it, it was okay. The sky, though, wasn’t sending any good signs. About midday, it started darkening. Wolfram had been on enough ships to know the signs of an incoming storm. He was already preparing for the worst when it was suddenly decided that they were going to the quiet bay in Marosa to wait out the storm, refill their supplies, sell some of the loot, and send a letter to Wolfram’s uncle.

Wolfram was very relieved to hear this. It was not that he thought he would have a chance of escaping; he would certainly be locked up in a cabin once in the bay. Even if he weren’t, he didn’t think he had enough strength to be chased by a handful of strong men. Rather, he could not bear the thought of himself in a stormy sea. Thankful, nonetheless, he simply concentrated on doing the laundry.

Wolfram heard the boards in the corridor creak and then raised his head as a figure appeared in the doorway.

“Still cooped up here, I see,” Sharp Ronny said, looking at barefooted Wolfram sitting amidst basins. A lantern was burning on the table but it was only half-light in the cabin. Both wet and dry clothes were scattered all over the floor. The blond was wet from head to toe, the floor was slippery. The captain couldn’t tell which clothes were supposed to be dirty and which already washed.

“What?” Wolfram asked after noticing the captain inspecting his work.

“You do realize that this is my cabin?”

“Ah, right,” Wolfram muttered darkly, “your prestigious cabin.”

The captain waited for the blond to add something but he neither added nor showed any intention to move anywhere. He simply continued splashing the water around, shivering lightly.

“Go and do this on the upper deck.”

“I like it here better. The sight of the sea makes me sick, it’s windy, and I don’t like people pinching my butt.”

“Must have been High Standard.”

“High Standard?”

“It’s his nickname. When he first joined, he always used to say he had high standards for this or that.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, so now he must be thinking: ‘What a high standard ass!’”

Wolfram frowned at the clothes in his hands. As long as this wasn’t leading to the acting on curiosity of ‘high standard sex’, he could deal with it. He was pretty certain that he could. He had had male suitors – one before Yuuri, another during their engagement. Under those circumstances, he knew how to get rid of unwanted attention.

The captain watched the blond for a few long seconds then, carefully so as not to slip, walked over to the bed and sat down. The blond had been right to avoid his men. He didn’t know what exactly Wolfram thought of the situation, but it was obvious that the blond wasn’t taking this as seriously as he should. It was because of his mindset, the lack of experience, or his poor health condition, which, maybe, prevented him from worrying too much and getting even worse.

“Have you eaten anything?”

“A slice of bread. It came back up right away.”

“It’s best you rest after doing the laundry. There is no point in you dying before we get the money.”

“Right. It would be a grand waste,” Wolfram muttered bitterly. With the amount of laundry around him, he was going to be able to rest only in the afterlife. This kind of generosity caused a surge of anger and a wish to empty a basket of rinsing over the captain. This, in turn, resulted in a throbbing headache and Wolfram lay down on the floor. He stared at the ceiling, fighting his anger.

“Hey, you alive there?”

Wolfram snorted.

“Is that ‘yes’ or ‘no’?”

“I’m alright. My head hurts again.”

“I think you might have a concussion.”

“Yes, I’m pretty certain I should be lying in a bed instead of washing someone’s dirty underwear.”

“Yeah, you’re right; I’ve never seen anyone as lousy as you at washing.”

The silence after this stretched for too long. 

The captain chuckled. “Could it be that I hurt your feelings?” There was still no answer and he got up from the bed. The blond was lying on the floor motionlessly with his eyes closed.

“Wolfram? Hey, Wolfram?” the captain called, lightly slapping the blond on his face. He was surprised at how cold the blond’s body felt. He started unbuttoning the blond’s wet shirt off. In a few seconds, Wolfram stirred lightly.

“Mm?”

The blond looked totally out of it. Confused, Wolfram felt his upper body rise then watched his arm being threaded out of the sleeve of his shirt.

“You fainted. Are you cold?”

The blond was frowning slightly, trying to grasp the mystery of his disappearing shirt. Then he jerked, his eyes finally focusing, and he pushed at the captain’s chest. “What the hell are you doing?” he snarled, grabbing his shirt off the floor and stumbling to his feet. He immediately regretted that as fireworks exploded behind his eyes and his legs folded underneath him. He would have hit the ground if not for Sharp Ronny catching him.

“Stay still,” the captain said, starting to unbutton Wolfram’s trousers.

Despite being dizzy and disoriented, Wolfram managed to give him a look which was wondering if the captain was right in the head.

“Let go of me this instance.”

“Suit yourself,” the captain said, pushing Wolfram off himself and to the floor. He was satisfied to hear a soft yelp coming from the blond. “Undress and go to bed. I’ll tell my men they will have to wash their clothes by themselves.” He looked at the mess on the floor, again wondering if there were any clothes at all the blond had washed. “But you know, they will think I’m fucking you.”

“Anything,” Wolfram growled out, peeling his wet trousers off his legs, “just let me sleep!”

\---

Wolfram was sleeping when a powerful bang flung him right off the bed and onto the floor. He lay still for a few seconds, waiting for a sharp pain behind his eyes to pass. Then, he checked to see if the harsh fall hadn’t broken any of his limbs. No time to gather his wits, he got on all fours and found that the floor was tilted. He could smell smoke and hear shouts on the upper deck. 

Wolfram stumbled in the direction of the door and opened it. Something whooshed somewhere and a deafening crash followed. Wood splintered somewhere at the other end of the ship, screams echoed. The corridor was slowly filling up with smoke.

Carefully, Wolfram started climbing upstairs. The ship was strongly tilted and he had to keep a firm hold on the railing. Another impact shook the ship and Wolfram nearly tumbled backwards off the stairs. 

The upper deck was on fire. Through the smoke, Wolfram could see that some of the sails were already in tatters, some burning, others with holes made by cannon balls. Farther in the distance, he could see five ships. They were still firing, the heavy cannon balls whooshing and exploding around. With the pirate ship tilted, it could not use its cannons. The pirates were arming themselves and lowering dinghies into the sea.

Wolfram looked around. The shore was about two hundred meters away. The ship was sinking now, and Wolfram figured that the enormous impact that had thrown him off the bed was them hitting a reef. The other ships must have chased them into it deliberately.

He had to get out of this ship. He was a pretty good swimmer but two hundred meters in a wavy and cold sea in his health condition wasn’t possible. He had to get into one of the dinghies, and this wasn’t going to be easy, either. 

Nobody was paying Wolfram much attention. Besides, the smoke was making it hard to see, helping him to stay unnoticed. Belatedly, Wolfram realized that he wasn’t wearing any clothing apart from his underwear, but there was no time to lose. Most of the pirates had already fled and Wolfram could see three overcrowded dinghies speeding towards the shore.

There was still one dinghy on the left side of the ship, the side into which the ship was listing. There were a few pirates around. Obviously, they were armed, and he had only his underwear. Wolfram looked around for anything he could use as a weapon. He sighted a paddle farther on the deck and hurried there. 

Wolfram faltered as he suddenly found himself face to face with a man who had appeared from behind a few barrels. Not allowing the pirate to recover from his surprise, Wolfram slammed his shoulder into him. He had concentrated all his strength into that and the two of them tumbled onto the floor. Wolfram saw stars before his eyes, but he had also stunned the other man.

They rolled over the floor, grappling. Wolfram considered himself lucky that this was a Human and he had a chance of overpowering him. A Demon would have had him on his knees during first few seconds. 

The Human managed to throw him off but Wolfram was on him again, holding his wrist, not letting him pull out his sword. The man tried to free his wrist but Wolfram didn’t let go. He blocked the pirate’s other hand when the man wanted to punch him. Then happened something which Wolfram hadn’t expected: the blinding pain that flared up in his groin made him howl and drop rolling to the floor. As if through the mist, Wolfram still was aware of his shock and surprise: this was what dirty fighting felt like, and it was ungodly efficient. He wished somebody had taught him this at the Military Academy.

Sharp Ronny and a few of his other men looked at the pirate who was dragging the half-conscious Wolfram towards their dinghy. 

“What are you doing with him?” Sharp Ronny demanded.

“He will be a valuable hostage.”

The captain gave him a skeptical look. He pointed at the four ships on the horizon. “That ship with the dragon sail belongs to von Ashira. You know very well what the bastard is like. He doesn’t negotiate. He will kill this rich kid himself and then tell everyone that it was us who did it. He will say he didn’t even have the slightest idea the kid was on board. Remember what happened to Hairy Harry?”

The other pirate cursed and dropped Wolfram to the floor. 

The captain shrugged. “He’s useless, but let’s take him with us anyway,” he said. “He will either drown or the soldiers will kill him on sight.”

“I knew you were fucking him!”

The captain laughed. He looked around but these were the last of his men left. He ordered to drop the dinghy into the water.

Wolfram became aware of his surroundings only when there was an enormous splash and he suddenly found himself choking on water.

“Give me your hand,” the captain called out for him. Spluttering and coughing, Wolfram managed to reach the boat. Sharp Ronny grabbed the blond’s hand and pulled him into the dinghy, the pirates starting to row with vigor. 

The four ships were close now. Two of them with turned flanks were sending volleys of cannonballs toward the escaping pirate dinghies. Wolfram watched them passively. He felt like in a dream. He wasn’t even certain whether or not he was afraid. His mind simply couldn’t fathom the possibility that he might be mistaken for a pirate and killed like one. This…this was simply impossible.

Instinctively, Wolfram ducked as a cannon ball zoomed above them. It fell about ten meters away from them, not causing any damage, hardly rocking the dinghy. Momentarily relieved and at the same time horrified, he watched another ball arc from one of the ships and head towards them. With quickly growing anxiety, his eyes were following the trajectory of the ball.

Wolfram grabbed the side of the dingy, but couldn’t hold on as a sudden, rough wave lifted it and sloshed it sideways. They tried to keep their balance, but it was too late. The bodies tipped the vessel the rest of the way over, plunging it into the water. The dinghy scattered its passengers like a poppy its seeds. 

They were still about a hundred meters to the shore. Keeping a hold of the overturned boat, Wolfram thought about what he should do. Staying like this, he was going to freeze and drown anyway. No matter what, he had to try for the shore. 

At first, with his body flooded with adrenaline, Wolfram didn’t feel very much. He simply concentrated on every swing of his arms and the movements of his legs. A minute later, he started freezing in the autumn water. His palms hurt from the splinters he had gotten while trying to keep hold of the wooden side of the vessel. Even though he was doing his best, the shore seemed to be so far away. He could see some of the pirates already disembarking, running along the beach. Two other boats were also nearly there. 

Wolfram was now trailing behind. The bobbing heads of those who had been together with him in the dinghy were putting more and more distance between them. He could see the captain’s black hat far ahead. Obviously, the man was a very good swimmer.

With horror, Wolfram watched uniformed riders appear on the shore. He could hear dogs barking. The sunset reflected light off drawn swords. These were soldiers and this was a well-organized hunt. 

Wolfram looked at the two dinghies that were still afloat. The men had nearly reached the shore but now stayed on their boats, not climbing out. Behind them were the enemy ships. In front of them were the enemy soldiers. They were trapped. 

While they could stay in their boats and await their fate, Wolfram had to reach the shore. His fate at the moment was crystal-clear – either he was going to reach the shore or drown. It was probably a twenty meter swim. The coast seemed so close and so far at the same time. With every passing moment, his legs and arms seemed to become heavier and heavier, until it felt as if leaden weights were attached to them. Now he was fighting for his life, trying not to gulp water. If he did that, it was over. He started coughing and losing his coordination, his mind going blank. 

Now there were only ten meters left and his lungs were burning. His whole body was protesting, begging for relief. He fought desperately against the deadly pull of the waves. He didn’t want to die yet. Not yet, not ever. He was too young. He still had to see and learn many things. It seemed to him that during the last week at the fort he had started enjoying life again. 

Wolfram imagined he could already feel the sand under his feet. More, a little more, was all he was asking for. More time, more strength, luck, more everything before his previous life started replaying in his eyes.

When Wolfram felt sand under his feet, he wasn’t certain whether it was only his wishful thinking or reality. Shaking like a leaf, he climbed from the water on all fours and collapsed on the beach. Dogs and soldiers had flooded the coast, but Wolfram had no strength left to think about them. He simply wanted to rest.

The soldiers were rounding up the rest of the pirates. At first, the pirates had kept together to fight them but the soldiers overwhelmed them by the sheer number and half of them rode horses, not leaving any chance for the pirates to outrun them. Here and there, a fight would break out but once a pirate brandished a sword, there was no mercy left for him. The beach had already grown mounds of lonely bodies.

The Duke of Raizgad had left his ship and now was supervising the progress of the company on the beach. He was on horseback, riding among his troops, while the last of the pirates were being bound into ropes. From afar, it was not easy to tell the duke apart from his soldiers as he was wearing the same brown uniform as his men, except that his jacket was longer and bore the crest of von Ashira House. His dark violet hair was tied behind his back so as not to get in his face. He seemed to be very content with how the execution of the operation had turned out. 

“Your Grace!”

The duke turned to look at the soldier who had called. “Yes?”

“This one is dying, Your Grace,” the soldier said. “Shall I just finish him off or admit him to a medical bay?”

The duke watched his soldier grab a handful of blond hair and lift a nearly naked man’s head for him to see. Not a muscle moved on von Ashira’s face to show his surprise or that he knew the man. He thought about how easy it would be to annihilate one of the most prominent Houses in Shin Makoku. With the end of Wolfram von Bielefeld’s existence, it would be over. According to the intelligence he had read, the youth’s uncle was sterile. 

The duke watched his soldier draw a dagger. Right now, von Bielefeld was nothing but a despicable pirate. Later, of course, he would present his condolences to his family, expressing his sorrow for Wolfram’s unfortunate fate. To convey his solidarity, he would hang all the pirates who had killed the blond.

“Your Grace?”

Von Ashira averted his eyes from Wolfram’s face to the soldier’s, who now was holding the dagger close to the blond’s throat. But in the end, what was the point? Some other family would take over the von Bielefelds’ lands, and, gods knew, they weren’t going to be even a tiny bit better than von Bielefelds.

“Oh my!” the duke exclaimed abruptly. “This is Lord von Bielefeld!”

Not understanding whether it was a joke or the truth, the soldier stared at the duke, waiting.

“I would suggest you remove that dagger at once. This is Lord von Bielefeld you are threatening.”

“Of course, Your Grace,” the soldier spilled out, quickly hiding his dagger.

“Transport him to the castle and call my personal doctor. I want him examined at once.”

“Yes, Your Grace, right away.”

After leaving the orders with the soldier, the duke turned his horse around and rode away to check the rest of the pirates; if von Bielefeld was here, then maybe there was also someone else who was unfortunate enough to get into the pirates’ clutches. Once he departed, the soldiers he had left behind met each others’ eyes uneasily, sharing the realization of what had just transpired here. Then, they went about the business of finding a cart and sending someone to inform the duke’s doctor about a new patient as well as locating a blanket or some other cover that they could wrap the blond into.

\---

Eldara von Ashira returned to his castle four hours later. Once he set his foot inside, he was vigorously questioned about the new resident by his excited sister. Then, after managing to quench Halea’s thirst for gossipy details, the duke went to have a bath. After that, he had dinner. It was long overdue but the servants in the kitchen quickly rustled up a few sandwiches and heated leftovers. Once the duke dulled the edge off his appetite, he went to see his guest.

As Eldara had given no orders concerning von Bielefeld’s accommodation, and his younger brother was absent from home, his sister had been the one to make the decisions. Halea had placed von Bielefeld in one of the guest rooms.

The duke entered the room to find the doctor still there, sitting on one of the chairs, looking bored; he had been waiting for the duke’s return to personally inform him of the patient’s health. Eldara closed the door softly behind himself. He walked over to the bed to take a look at the blond’s face. He couldn’t see very well in the half-darkness of the candles but, even then, it seemed that Wolfram was too pale.

“Well?” Eldara inquired the doctor, who had started gathering his instruments and putting them back into his valise. 

“He has a serious concussion. He is sleeping now.” 

Eldara’s eyes took in the bruise on the blond’s forehead. It was healing already but its size and variety of colors was a sight to behold. He nodded. “Anything else? Have you checked him for sexual abuse?”

“Certainly, Your Grace,” the doctor said, giving the duke a little reproachful look, which Eldara accepted as deserved for patronizing the doctor; they had known each other for over twenty years now and the doctor expected him to trust his skill. 

“It didn’t find any other internal or external injuries,” the doctor continued. “His palms are bruised and were full of splinters but that has been taken care of.” He faltered, throwing the duke a quick glance. “Well, his nether regions are somewhat swollen. It doesn’t seem that there is any long-term damage, though.”

Eldara gave the doctor a questioning look.

“To put it bluntly, Your Grace, somebody has kicked him in the nuts.”

“Oh, I see,” Eldara said, frowning in sympathy. At the same time, he was relieved nothing worse had happened to von Bielefeld. Now, as he had taken Wolfram under his care, he wanted as few complications as possible.

The duke moved forward to the blond’s bed. He could see his palms wrapped in light bandages and there was the smell of ointment. Wolfram looked different than the last time he had seen him: he had grown, was more muscled but, unsurprisingly, thinner, his blond hair was longer and matted with grease and dirt. He stank. Eldara pressed the back of his hand to Wolfram’s temple. The skin was surprisingly cool. The blond didn’t even twitch or react in any way to his touch. 

“He needs a bath,” Eldara stated.

“He needs as much rest as possible,” the doctor replied. “A bath can wait. Plenty of sleep at night and lazing about in bed at daytime,” he continued. “No physical exercise whatsoever. For now, it’s best for him to avoid all kinds of excitement. During the next few days he will probably still have bouts of dizziness, headaches, or nausea or, possibly, everything at once. Sometimes the aftereffects of a concussion can last for an entire lifetime. His condition needs to be closely observed. I’ll probably be able to tell more in only a few days.”

“Alright.”

“It seems he hasn’t eaten for a few days. But, if he feels nauseous, he will probably refuse food. Still, it would be good to encourage him to eat something nourishing but not too hard to digest. I’ll leave all my instructions with the nurse; I have taken the liberty to call one over from the medical bay.”

“Yes, perfect. She can also stay in one of the guest rooms and watch over him.”

The doctor had already packed his valise and was now standing at the door. “I’ll come to check on him tomorrow at about the same time, Your Grace. I think that being a young and healthy Demon, he should fully recover in less than a month.”

“Yes,” Eldara nodded, smiling wryly. “Demons are extremely tenacious, gods damn them. Thank you, Doctor. We’ll see each other tomorrow, then.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

The duke took another look at the blond and then left the room as well. He still had to write a long and complicated letter to Gwendal von Voltaire explaining how and why his little brother was staying in his castle. And Gwendal von Voltaire was not the sort of man you wanted to worry.

Tbc


	7. Part 7

**Bloom**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by HARPG0

Part 7

Wolfram slept during the first two days. The duke had been informed that he had woken up a few times to eat and to go to the bathroom, but, otherwise, he simply slept, just as the doctor had said. On the third day, the nurse came to Eldara to report that von Bielefeld had woken up and was very agitated.

“Right,” said the duke, putting a chicken wing aside. He brushed a napkin over his lips and then wiped his fingers with it. “First thing he does after waking up is disturb my meal. This is definitely a good sign.”

Halea rolled her eyes. “It’s not that he chose to…”

“I know, Halea,” the duke sighed, standing up. “What I meant is rather different. Now he will probably demand I bring him home at once. And then, he will complain to me how unsatisfactory the service is and how he finds his bed uncomfortable.”

“Most definitely,” Athara agreed. “He’s exactly the type you described.”

Eldara gave his youngest sibling a questioning look. “Do you know him well?”

His brother shrugged. “Not really. Both of us studied at the Military Academy at the same time. But he is older and we were in different years and separate groups.”

“I see.”

“I also remember that he was very good at his studies. However,” Athara continued, “as far as I remember, he has always had a very explosive character. Literally. He despises Humans, too.”

“Ah,” the duke said, frowning. “Combining these features doesn’t bring me much joy.”

Athara nodded. “Exactly. But despising Humans was a part of contemporary fashion one followed in order to fit in, so maybe…” he drawled, leaving it hanging.

“Alright. Tell the servants not to clear the table off just in case I’m not gone for long. Then again, after seeing von Bielefeld, I might lose my appetite altogether.”

“I’m confident that won’t happen,” Halea said.

Grinning, Athara looked at his sister. “She certainly likes him.”

“Yes, I was thinking that since this opportunity has already presented itself, I should just marry them off.”

“If it’s you, dear brother, then I’m certain that you will succeed,” said Athara saluting the duke with his wineglass. Mixed together with playfulness, there was certain bitterness in his words, which didn’t elude Eldara’s ears.

Halea sighed. “And nobody has asked me if I want to marry him.”

“Certainly you do!” Athara exclaimed. “Who doesn’t? He’s rich, influential, handsome, and young!”

“Careful, Halea,” the duke warned. “It seems you have a rival here.”

“You know I prefer women,” Athara said. “Pity, though. He is a great catch.”

“I should get going before your great catch falls asleep again.”

When the duke entered the room where von Bielefeld was currently residing, it struck him that the blond’s overall condition looked much better. He was sitting upright in the bed with his back leaning against the headboard. He wasn’t so ghastly pale anymore. His hair was still a horrific sight, though, and the duke figured he knew what one of Wolfram’s immediate requests was going to be. 

The duke nodded politely. “Your Highness. How do you feel?”

Wolfram was obviously relieved to finally see someone who could speak his language but now was looking at Eldara, trying to remember where he had seen him.

“We have met at His Majesty Yuuri Shibuya’s birthday party, Sir. I think that was about three months ago. I’m Eldara von Ashira,” Eldara introduced himself with a light bow of his head. “The Duke of Raizgad.”

Recognition lit up Wolfram’s face but now he looked mildly startled. “I’m in Kardera?”

“Yes, Sir,” Eldara confirmed. The blond’s alarmed eyes set on his face. Eldara could see that his pupils were of slightly different sizes. He hadn’t noticed this before; must be an aftereffect of the concussion.

“Your Grace,” Wolfram muttered, suddenly remembering his manners. The next question, though, made the duke smile tersely: “Am I a prisoner?”

“No, Sir. You are a patient,” the duke accentuated. Then, he thought that he was being rude and unfair to Wolfram. The blond was suffering from a concussion, had just woken up without understanding where he was and, of course, was a little panicky, not really thinking about what he was saying. Besides, there were sufficient grounds for von Bielefeld’s suspicions – he had, in fact, debated with himself about allowing his soldiers to cut Wolfram’s throat right there on the coast.

Seeing that, as predicted, this was going to take long, the duke went to the table in the middle of the room and took one of the four chairs. He carried it over to Wolfram’s bed and, after the blond gave a quick nod, seated himself. The entire time, the blond had kept quiet, waiting for further explanations.

“Sir can travel home whenever he wishes,” Eldara said softly, hopeful that his calm tone would help dissipate Wolfram’s fears. “However, due to a serious concussion, the doctor advises as much rest as possible for the next few weeks. No physical exercise either. It would be in Sir’s best interests to rest and heal.”

Wolfram didn’t look very convinced but seemed to relax somewhat. He touched himself on the forehead. His fingers prodded the bruise gently. He scratched his head. It was obvious that he knew that at least the part about his concussion was true. 

“I…” Wolfram muttered, “I have to write home, Your Grace. To inform them about what happened.”

Eldara wasn’t certain if he should applaud the youth’s mistrustfulness or be annoyed by it. “I hope I will be forgiven, Sir. I have already written to your brother, His Highness Gwendal von Voltaire. I informed him about your health condition and your current location.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

Eldara knew what was going to be the blond’s next question and, thus, decided to hurry it up: “I sent the letter the day before yesterday and we haven’t received the reply yet. It should come in five or six days if the sea is calm.”

“Oh.” Wolfram could not see the duke’s face very well. The man had purposely chosen to sit next to the window and the low, afternoon sun prevented Wolfram from seeing his eyes. It was hard for Wolfram to gauge his reactions. “Then may I take the advantage of your hospitality, Your Grace?”

“Certainly, Sir.”

“Thank you, Your Grace. If I could make one more request…”

“You are my most honored guest, Your Highness. There is no request you can’t make.”

Wolfram gave the duke a strained smile, making the duke realize that von Bielefeld knew these pompous formalities between them did not give him any reason to think he was very welcome here. This made Eldara grin inwardly.

“I am very grateful, Your Grace. I would like to take a bath.”

The duke nodded. “Certainly, Sir.” He stood up. “I’ll tell the servants right away,” he said, going for the door. He couldn’t see Wolfram giving his back a thoughtful look while he was talking to the guard at the door.

“I’m sorry about your bed, Your Grace,” Wolfram added when the duke returned to his seat. Now the blond was wary that there were guards at this door. This went both ways – he was either guarded from danger or from being dangerous to someone. “I’m not exactly…hmm…sanitary,” he explained as the duke gave him a puzzled look.

“A hot bath can do wonders, Sir,” the duke said, deciding to be courteous once again and not to inform the blond that he smelled a great deal as well.

“Your Grace, the maid who was here doesn’t understand what I’m saying. Isn’t there anyone who speaks at least one of Shin Makoku dialects?”

“She is not a maid, Your Highness,” the duke corrected him. “She is a nurse. But seeing how Sir doesn’t need much medical care, I can exchange her for a maid. There are quite a lot of people speaking the main language in Kardera but most of them are nobility or people who have one or another business with Demons.”

“I see. Then there’s no need for that, Your Grace. I would feel more assured if I were taken care of by a person who has received medical education.”

Von Bielefeld was honest, the duke had to give him that. “My doctor comes once a day to check on Sir’s health progress. Sir can have a word with him. He speaks the standard language fluently.”

“Thank you, Your Grace. I’ll definitely do that.” Wolfram scratched his head. “I was wondering about clothes, Your Grace.”

Eldara looked at a bathrobe hanging on one of the three chairs at the table. Very likely, this piece of clothing, aside from his blue underwear and someone’s slippers, was the only one von Bielefeld had. “Right,” the duke said, “when we found you, you were…” He fell silent at the cold look on von Bielefeld’s face. “Right,” Eldara repeated, “I’ll make sure you have something to wear, Sir. Of course, we can’t get anything tailored so fast, but my brother is about the same size. He also, more or less, follows the latest fashion as well.”

For the first time, Wolfram took a good look at the duke. He couldn’t tell exactly from his sitting position but the man was probably taller than him. His chest and shoulders were wider as well; he had more muscle, too. Von Ashira didn’t seem much older, though, – very likely, he was in his mid-twenties. However, unlike himself, the duke had already reached his full growth. Thus, any of the duke’s clothes would hang on him like on a coat hanger.

“Maybe Sir is interested in something from my wardrobe?” Eldara asked misinterpreting Wolfram’s look.

Wolfram’s eyes rose from the duke’s stomach, where he had been admiring the shining buttons, and up to his face. “No, thank you, Your Grace.” He wanted to add that he would look like a clown, but, thankfully, his brain reacted faster than his mouth and he avoided this dangerous faux pas. “I think it is already enough that I’m taking unfair advantage of your brother.” Wolfram presumed that the duke’s brother wasn’t going to be very happy about this either. “Shouldn’t I ask his permission first, Your Grace?” he wondered. 

“Oh, I’m certain that he’ll be honored to lend them to Your Highness.”

Wolfram was starting to develop a headache from these pompous formalities and tension. He knew that, finally, he was more or less safe and he was feeling sleepy and tired again. He was already regretting he had asked for a bath.

“Ah!” Wolfram said suddenly. “What happened to the pirates?”

Eldara inspected the blond for a few seconds before answering. “Some of them resisted and died. Others are going to be hanged tomorrow, Sir.”

Wolfram returned the duke’s evaluating stare. Just like in the fort, just like on board, yet again, he got the feeling that everyone thought he was some naïve, sheltered kid. Alright, maybe he wasn’t the toughest warrior on the planet, but he was not a spoiled brat, either. Well, not anymore. He knew what retribution and death were. He knew what pain was and he knew what love was. 

After receiving the indignant stare, Eldara grinned unconsciously. Immediately, he regretted that as the blond seemed to be insulted even more. He hid his smile quickly. Von Bielefeld was supposed to be twenty but he was even worse than Athara. Teenagers were so sensitive and self-righteous.

“Your Grace, I…”

“Call me _Eldara_ , please,” the duke said, giving Wolfram a short smile.

Wolfram bowed his head lightly. He was surprised at the sudden wave of warmth from the duke. There was no change visually, but he could instinctively feel that something had changed. “Then, I will expect the same courtesy.” Wolfram scratched his head. “About those pirates,” he continued. “I think they have my signet ring. If there’s any possibility of getting it back…”

Unconsciously, Eldara fingered his own signet ring. “I see. Yes, it could become a problem if it got into the wrong hands. I’ll look into it,” he said. His fingers let go of his ring and he lowered his hands back to his lap.

“Thank you.”

Wolfram noticed that there were no other rings on the duke’s fingers. It appeared that the duke was wearing the same uniform he had seen him with during Yuuri’s birthday celebration. The cravat and silver cufflinks were different, though. The white cravat wasn’t decorated with any kind of brooch. Actually, the man wasn’t wearing any other jewelry except for a band in his hair, and even then, as far as he could see, it was only a strip of dark material without any ornamentation. Wolfram wondered if that was because the duke wasn’t fond of jewelry or because the man realized that he was even more stunning without its glitter.

“Would you like to come and watch them hanged?”

There was something probing in Eldara’s voice again and Wolfram didn’t like that. “No,” he said. “I’m not into that kind of thing.” The weird smile stuck on the duke’s face annoyed him. “Besides, they treated me pretty well.”

“Mm… I see,” Eldara said. He fingered his signet ring absentmindedly. “What about Sharp Ronny?”

“The captain?” Wolfram wondered. He gave the duke a suspicious look. “What about him?”

“No, nothing in particular, but there are rumors about him.”

Eldara’s silky tone was enough to make him understand what kind of rumors he meant. Wolfram felt his cheeks tinting red. 

The duke chuckled, amused by Wolfram’s silence and his lightly colored face. His brow rose a little. “I see that he was treating you _extremely_ well; it will be a pity to hang him.” He shrugged. “Ah well, such is the life of a pirate,” he concluded. “I’ll tell the servants to ready the clothes before your bath,” he said before Wolfram could react in any way to his words. “They will change the sheets as well. Do you have any preferences concerning food?”

Wolfram watched him for a few seconds, then decided he had no objections to what the man had said. And even if he did, he would just make a fool of himself protesting. “No, not really. Just something simple, please. I’m not very good with foreign cuisines.”

“I’ll talk to the cooks.” Eldara stood up. “The bath should be ready in fifteen minutes or so,” he said pushing the chair back to the table. “A servant will come and lead you there. The toiletries will be ready as well.”

Wolfram nodded gratefully. “Thank you.” He scratched his head again. “Err… How long, according to the doctor, I should refrain from physical activity?” 

“For at least two weeks. Overall, his suggestion was for you to take a month off from everything.”

Wolfram looked startled. “A month?” he repeated uncertainly.

“Yes, a month here,” Eldara said, not without annoyance. “Maybe a month is a little bit too much, but, currently, you are in no condition to travel. It would be just looking for trouble if you did.”

Eldara reacted like this every time Wolfram suggested there was something ulterior in his intentions. This made Wolfram think that there was a reason for this sensitivity. Being insulted was not among the reasons Wolfram could come up with.

When the duke had finally left, Wolfram leaned backwards into his pillow and exhaled loudly. For a few moments, he just stayed like this with his eyes closed. Somehow, the pirates had been easier to deal with – he knew where he stood with them. The duke, though… Eldara was hardly older than him, especially for a Human. However, it felt as though they were ages apart. The man was sly and manipulative. This much was clear. The remarkable hospitality he was offering was certainly coming with a handsome price attached. In time, the duke would demand his reward, and it wasn’t going to be monetary. It was going to be hard to keep an eye on all the hints so as not to fall into some well-prepared trap of machinations.

There was a knock on the door and Wolfram opened his eyes, startled. He realized he had nodded off. A servant entered. He was saying something but, after Wolfram gave him a lost look, he pointed at the door.

“Baaf,” he mumbled, embarrassed.

“Ah, yes, my bath. Thank you.” How, in the world, was he going to keep an eye on things if he could hardly understand what they were saying? The duke was not going to be in a hurry, either, to find someone who could speak any of the Demon languages. 

The servant waited until Wolfram wrapped himself into the bathrobe then led him outside into the corridor. The guard at the door didn’t move from his post. His eyes, though, followed Wolfram and the servant until they disappeared behind a corner.

Wolfram was looking around, memorizing where he was being led. He inspected the carpets he was treading on and the tapestries. Curtains, paintings, candlesticks, everything was different. Certainly, there were different things fashionable in Shin Makoku and Kardera. Wolfram was not an expert in fashion, but he thought that it all looked very tasteful. He wondered vaguely whose achievement it was.

A soft baaing drew Wolfram’s attention to the room they were passing. The door was open and he could see a cat walking towards them. It caught up quickly and tried to rub itself against Wolfram’s legs. He stopped to stroke it and the cat immediately started to purr. It was a beautiful, large animal, obviously male, as Wolfram could see now. Its white fur was neither long nor puffy but it was still silky to the touch.

Wolfram was stroking it until the cat turned his backside to him and sprayed Wolfram’s legs with one accurate fountain. Gasping, he jumped back. Mumbling something under his breath, the servant kicked the cat aside. Wolfram inspected his legs. Warm, tiny droplets hung on them. He stared, unsure of his next course of action. He had just gotten pissed on by a cat. He had nothing to wipe his legs off with, only his bare hands. It was good that he was going straight to the baths.

The servant’s incessant grumbling roused Wolfram from his dizzy reverie. Wolfram looked at him and suddenly couldn’t stop laughing. The look the servant was giving him was also very funny. The man must think he had a screw loose. 

Wolfram laughed until he felt like crying. Shivering, he slumped against the expensive tapestry and covered his face with his hands. He realized he was being hysterical but this somehow didn’t make things any better. 

A touch on his shoulder made Wolfram jerk and lower his hands. He stared at the servant, who was saying something unintelligible. For a few seconds, Wolfram watched him babbling then shrugged indifferently, ending that incessant flow of pointless speech. The servant looked mildly hurt.

Wolfram pushed himself off the wall indicating he wanted to proceed to the baths. It was obvious that the servant didn’t think it was a very good idea but he kept silent this time, starting to walk forward again.

There was a guard at the door to the baths. Wolfram nearly burst out laughing again. Now, it was painfully clear why the previous guard hadn’t moved from his post. The blond followed the servant into the baths. 

There was a large tub right in front of the entrance. However, the swimming pool dominated most of the room. On Wolfram’s right, there were two other, smaller, pools with steaming water. A cupboard with open shelves stood between the two of them at the wall and Wolfram walked to it. The shelves were housing rows and rows of varicolored bottles. There were labels on almost every one of them but no matter how hard Wolfram looked, he could not find any label which would at least remotely remind him of the word ‘shampoo’. Lost, Wolfram turned to look at the servant, who was obediently standing behind him. The man just motioned at the bottles and smiled at him idiotically. Frowning, Wolfram concentrated on the bottles again.

Finally, Wolfram spotted a familiar blue bottle. After retrieving it, he saw that he had been right – it was the popular shampoo Gunter used. Its smell was somewhat too sweet for Wolfram’s taste, but this was better than getting bald from some mysterious liquid. Feeling victorious, Wolfram lowered the bottle down, next to the edge of one of the smaller pools. He grabbed the best-looking bar of soap he could find and then turned to face the servant, who, while Wolfram was searching for shampoo, had enough time to, seemingly, “sprout” a few soft towels and a sponge in his hands.

Wolfram took the towels and the sponge but then his eye caught a mirror on the front wall, just at the entrance. With dread, he walked over to it. However, nothing could have prepared him for what he saw after wiping the steam off. Shocked, Wolfram patted himself on the face. What, in the world, was that huge yellow lump on his forehead? And bags. Gray bags were under his eyes. He had never had bags under his eyes before! And what was with that oily mat of hair on his head? Numbly, Wolfram tugged at his hair. He would be lucky if he succeeded to brush it out sometime in this century. Very likely, he was going to have to cut it short, really short.

Wolfram stared in the mirror then touched his face again. He had always cared and had been sensitive about his looks. Gwendal sometimes teased him about it. But, honestly, now even Gwendal would be horrified at the sight of him.

The blond turned away from the disagreeable mirror and went back to the pool, where his toiletries were waiting. The servant had discreetly retreated to the door, leaving him some privacy, and Wolfram shed his bathrobe. While wrapping the smallest towel around his hips, and then pulling his dirty underwear off, he wondered if there were any prospects of him getting any new clothing tonight. Deciding that, in case there wasn’t any, he was going to parade around without underwear, he slid into the pool.

He was aware of the servant’s blabbering again. However, as he couldn’t understand a thing, except ‘baaf’ or sometimes ‘bieeef’, he simply ignored it. It was not hard to do as the water was heavenly. His nervous shivering was lessening as well. Wolfram sat down so that only his head was visible and leaned his back against the wall. He had missed this warmth. It wasn’t cold in the guest room he was staying in. In fact, far from it. Yet, it was autumn already and the stony walls of the castle were letting the cool dampness through.

“What, in the world, are you saying?” Wolfram wondered aloud as the servant didn’t slow in his incessant blathering. He was pointing to somewhere behind himself. At the mirror, probably. Scratching his head, Wolfram shrugged. He took the sponge from the edge and held it out for the servant. That seemed to work and the flow of words stopped. The man seemed to be uncertain but walked over to the pool and took the sponge from Wolfram. The blond watched the servant rub soap into it. Then, he stood up and turned his back for the man.

It felt good. Wolfram could nearly feel dirt sliding off his skin. It had been more than two months since he had had the luxury of a bath. At the fort, the ‘bath-day’ was on Sundays. However, there were no bathtubs as such. One just wetted his sponge in a bucket of hot water and rubbed himself with soap. Once done, he would pour the bucket over himself to wash the residual soap off.

The bathhouse was very hot, though, filled with boiling steam and soldiers hitting themselves with bundles of birch twigs. Some leaves would scatter or stick to the sweating bodies. Wolfram found the bathhouse exhausting. It was really not his kind of thing.

The servant was done and Wolfram sat down again. He felt lightheaded with some kind of relief. His muscles were so relaxed that they felt loose, almost watery. The blond leaned his back against the edge of the pool and closed his eyes.

Wolfram spluttered and coughed, water running through his nose and mouth. He flailed his hands instinctively, trying to keep his head out of water. His nose was burning as, instead of getting precious air into his lungs, he could not stop coughing. He could feel someone’s hands on him. Wolfram tried to overcome his panic and blink the soapy water out of his eyes. The aggressive voice was spilling a stream of unfamiliar words and the hands didn’t let go of him. Wolfram knocked them off and then punched out blindly with his fist. The sound of his madly beating heart in his ears prevented him from hearing a crack.

The blond dragged himself out of the pool. He could finally see the servant hunching on the floor, holding his nose. Blood was dripping through his fingers and onto the tiled floor. Wolfram’s right hand groped around until his fingers wrapped around one particularly large bottle of either shampoo or oil. Still coughing so hard that his whole body shook, Wolfram tried to keep his eyes trained on the servant.

He turned to the opening door. That wasn’t a very clever thing to do as the servant suddenly was on top of him, trying to wrench the bottle from his fingers. While fighting the man, Wolfram could hear shouting. Someone tried to grab him, but he rolled himself and the servant over. Then he kicked at the nearest leg, sending someone down to the ground.

Wolfram wrestled with the servant until the two of them traded places. Now, Wolfram was keeping him down. The man, who had previously been occupied with the task of wrenching the bottle out of his grasp, now was wriggling fruitlessly, trying to escape. Wolfram pressed his knee against the servant’s groin and grinned at him meaningfully. Despite the fact that he must have seemed like something not from this world while coughing and, at the same time, trying to smirk threateningly, the strategy worked. The servant simply stopped, now staring at the blond apprehensively. His weirdly bent nose was still bleeding lightly.

“What are you doing to my servant, Wolfram?”

Keeping a secure hold on the man underneath him, Wolfram turned his head to look at the doorway. The duke was standing there, obviously not amused, only in his night robe and slippers, his long hair strewn out all over the place. Two guards with their swords drawn were at his side.

“He attacked me. Wanted to drown me! But I’m certain you know that!” Wolfram spat. The servant whimpered as Wolfram’s knee dug deeper. 

Eldara’s brow rose a fraction. The blond was delirious; Rigon was loyal and would never do that. Staring at Wolfram, he wondered if the blond realized that the only thing he was wearing was that wet towel which was slipping down his hips. At least, he was facing them. 

“Did the steam addle your brains, von Bielefeld? Do you even know what you are accusing me of?” 

Eldara finally looked down at his servant, whose pleading eyes had been searching for his for more than a minute already. 

Wolfram listened to the unrecognizable prattle that the duke and the servant exchanged. He heard Eldara sigh.

“Let go of him,” the duke said.

Wolfram snorted, not even pretending to listen. The servant whimpered at his weight.

“You do realize that you have no choice in the matter, don’t you?”

“How about I dismember him?” Wolfram said, smashing the bottle against the tiles.

The servant cried out as glass debris showered the side of his face. Wolfram’s shriek surpassed his, though. Eldara watched as the blond cradled his bleeding hand, a few green-colored shards protruding from it. The servant saw his chance and pushed at Wolfram, making him topple backwards, momentarily flashing his goods. Wolfram cursed, his leg swiping under the servant, who had already managed to get on his hands and knees. The man yelped in shock as his chest hit the tiles, barely missing the glass. Wolfram was on him in a second.

The duke’s guards surged forward but he motioned for them to stay back. Wolfram had started to glow. They were no match for a full-blooded Demon of Wolfram’s caliber. The servant hadn’t stood a chance even if against a weakened von Bielefeld.

“Wolfram?” the duke addressed the blond in a soft voice.

“Yes?” Wolfram hissed, his fire element now fluctuating threateningly around him.

“You fell asleep in the pool. Rigon said he had tried to drag you out of water and you went berserk. Why, in the world, didn’t you use the prepared tub over there?” Eldara pointed at the tub in the middle of the baths. “He particularly warned you that, in your state, the hot steam is dangerous. Now, if you don’t release him, I’m going to charge you with treason against Kardera. And I’ll personally execute you while your family watches.”

“I must warn you that he’s not kidding.”

Frowning, Wolfram turned his head to look at a young man who had appeared in the doorway. The man wanted to enter the baths, but the duke bodily blocked the door. He growled something out for the youngster. He was somehow familiar… That voice and the blue hair…

“Athara?”

The blue-haired youth turned to look at Wolfram. With that came the realization that resistance was futile – as far as Wolfram remembered, Athara von Reginald had been one of the strongest newcomer Demons to ever attend the Military Academy. Even if he had been two years behind Wolfram, the blond knew that in his weakened state he was no match for Athara’s water element. If they wanted him dead, he would be dead.

Wolfram rolled off the servant. The man scrambled to his fours and shot out the door.

“Well, finally.” The duke turned to a handful of soldiers who were flocking outside the baths. “Get Rigon to the nurse,” he ordered to one of them. “Tell her to come here with some sedatives after she’s done with Rigon.” Then he turned back to Wolfram. His eyes settled on the blond’s bleeding hand – Wolfram was carefully picking the shards out of his skin; breaking a bottle just right was more difficult than naive youngsters believed. Eldara rolled his eyes. He couldn’t believe this was happening; von Bielefeld was a total and complete nutcase.

“I fully expect you to apologize to Rigon,” Eldara demanded.

Wolfram chose to simply ignore him. He rolled over on his back and stared at the ceiling while counting slowly to ten. Wolfram was starting to suspect that the duke hadn’t lied about him falling asleep in the pool. The servant had also been mumbling something non-stop. The blond was vaguely aware of Athara’s voice floating in the baths. He could not understand what he and the duke were talking about. But, at this moment, the topics were limited. Wolfram chuckled.

“I think he’s lost it,” Athara said, watching the blond lying on the floor, grinning at the ceiling. “What the hell is wrong with him? Why did he attack Rigon?”

“You!” the duke snapped at his brother, having reached the limits of his patience. “Why are you here? This is dangerous!”

“Wolfram knows me. He knows I’m a serious threat, so he released Rigon. I want to talk to him.”

“Oh, yes, of course,” Eldara’s voice turned into pure silk. “All you’re missing are a few burned holes in you. Thank you very much for coming. Now go back!”

“I’m eighteen already and you’re still treating me like a six-year-old.”

“It’s because you act like one!” Eldara growled at him. He raised his hand as Athara’s mouth opened with an obviously snappy comeback. “Not now,” the duke warned in a voice which made his brother seal his lips.

Athara glared at him. Sometimes, he hated Eldara. “I simply want to talk to him.”

“Just leave him alone,” the duke answered, his voice losing its sharp edge. He was starting to calm down. “You can talk to him all you wish after he has slept it off. Recently, his life has been difficult; he’s too confused right now.”

“What are you doing here?”

With a triumphant look in his eyes, Athara turned away from his brother to Wolfram, who now was sitting on the tiles and cradling his hand in his towel-clad lap. The blond’s face didn’t seem much clearer, though. He looked tired, half-asleep. Athara realized that his brother had been right.

“I live here.”

“In Raizgad? With Humans?”

There was a lot of distaste in those words and Athara frowned. “One would think that you would have warmed up to the thought while being engaged to a half-breed for five years!” he spat viciously.

Eldara’s eyebrows rose at this. He looked at Athara, who suddenly realized that at the moment his best course of action would be to leave the baths without delay; Eldara looked like he could kill him. The expression on Wolfram’s face, though, was much harder to decipher: it was a mix of bitterness, regret, and anger.

Wolfram gritted out, “It has been annulled, the engagement; I _really_ can’t get along with Humans after all.”

“What? Really? Annulled?”

“Yes, three months ago,” Eldara confirmed. “Now, if you have something else to say which would make him go berserk again, don’t let me detain you – just spill it all out!”

To his credit, Athara managed to look ashamed.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Wolfram informed the blue-haired youth moodily.

“ _Von Reginald_ was my mother’s maiden name before she eloped from Shin Makoku to marry my father,” Athara explained. “I don’t think that my grandparents were very pleased but they did allow me to borrow the surname to go to the academy. For obvious reasons.”

Hazily, Wolfram stared at Athara for a few seconds. Then his eyes, with an obvious question in them, shifted to the duke.

“Yes,” Eldara said, “me too. And Halea as well.”

This was said in a voice which left no doubts that the duke and his family were not particularly proud of their Demon heritage.

“Ah. Half-Demons. Then it’s alright,” Wolfram said before slumping over on his side in a heap of limbs.

Athara stared at the blond’s half-covered backside in disbelief. “I think he’s asleep,” he said finally.

“He’d better be.”

Tbc


	8. Part 8

**Bloom**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by HARPG0

Part 8

“Your Grace, I think I did mention something about him needing rest?”

“Tell that to von Bielefeld.” Looking at the doctor, the duke leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers. He stretched his legs out under the desk. “He nearly managed to drown himself in the pool then went berserk, broke Rigon’s nose, and then nearly castrated him.” 

“Oh, really?” the doctor asked in detached interest. “And did the near-drowning happen accidentally?”

Eldara gave the doctor a look. The doctor met his eyes evenly and it was Eldara who lowered them; the doctor knew him all too well.

“Yes, it was an accident.”

“Very good, Your Grace. Now, at least, I know that I am not wasting my time with a goner.”

Eldara smiled sharply. “So what’s wrong with him?” he asked, not wanting to pursue that particular topic.

“I can’t say anything about his mental state until I talk to him, Your Grace. My guess, however, would be that he might have experienced a nervous breakdown due to the high stress level and then has become aggressive. Under stress, full-blooded Demons are particularly prone to aggressiveness. It’s a defense mechanism.” The doctor shrugged. “Well, I’m certain you know that, Your Grace.”

“Yes, unfortunately, I know that particularly well. Anything else, Doctor?”

“Well, his physical condition hasn’t worsened except for a few bruises and minor injuries to his right hand. I cleaned out the glass shards from it. I think he will be able to use it in a week or so. How did that happen?”

“He broke a bottle, intending to use it as a weapon.”

“I see. He’s one feisty Demon.”

“And that’s one too many in my castle,” the duke sighed. “I want to get rid of him as soon as possible.” The doctor was giving him that look again. “While he is still alive, preferably,” Eldara specified. “You heal him as soon as possible and I will ship him off to his dearest brother.” He drummed his fingers on the desk. “However, von Bielefeld doesn’t put much effort into helping himself out,” he pointed out. “It’s as if he’s trying to prolong his stay.”

“His brother… Von Voltaire? The man who’s practically ruling Shin Makoku?”

The duke nodded, confirming the unpleasant fact, “Yes, that’s von Voltaire.”

“What does he think of this, Your Grace?”

“I haven’t had the pleasure yet of hearing what he thinks. Unfortunately, he’s very fond of von Bielefeld. I expect von Voltaire will send his people in to make sure I treat his little brother with all the respect and dignity he deserves or thinks he deserves.”

“Does he, actually?” the doctor wondered. “I haven’t had any opportunity to talk to him yet.”

“Currently, he’s too unbalanced; I can’t impart any judgment. He simply struck me as… In fact, he looked like a kid trying to play a man’s role. It was quite amusing. However,” he added, “I’m afraid that he was playing that role much better than my brother.”

The doctor kept quiet. Eldara was too firm and patronizing for his own sake. He knew where it was coming from but one day both Halea and Athara were going to hate him. The duke needed someone else to occupy his time. Right now, all his attention and care were concentrated on his siblings. Eldara, an efficient man, could generate a lot of attention and care, which was not always healthy. The doctor rolled his eyes.

“I saw you do that.”

“Very good, Your Grace. I hope you can make something of that.”

“And how could my father stand you?”

“He couldn’t, in fact, Your Grace. But a pain in the back or a broken bone makes me tolerable.”

“Lovely.”

“Indeed, Your Grace.”

“So, tomorrow at eleven, as usual?”

“Certainly, Your Grace. Good night. Or should I say good morning.”

“Goodnight. My coachman will drive you back, of course. Thank you very much for coming,” Eldara said, looking out the dark window. It was two in the morning; everyone except for the guards was asleep. The doctor had come as soon as he was summoned. Von Bielefeld had stayed fast asleep the entire time while he had been carried from the bathroom and to his room and while the doctor had been examining him. The man must have been exhausted.

“Oh, right!” the doctor said, turning around on his heel sharply in the doorway. “I almost forgot. He has lice, Your Grace. Tomorrow I will tell the nurse to get something for that. My advice, though, would be he cut that mat of hair. I doubt any comb would be able to deal with the task of combing it out in any case.”

“I’ll talk to him about this. I’m afraid he’s somewhat narcissistic; it will be hard to convince him to cut it.”

“Do your best, Your Grace,” the doctor said, “or soon you and Halea will be the ones cutting _your_ hair.”

Eldara’s eyebrows shot up. “If he resists,” he said resolutely, “I’ll personally tie him up and shave him bald.”

“Wonderful, Your Grace. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Doctor.”

\---

Wolfram woke up to the sunlight on his face. He blinked slowly then looked at the window where the curtains were open. The sun was partly hidden behind one of the castle turrets. Was it evening already? Which day was it? The only thing he knew was that he badly wanted to go to the bathroom.

Disoriented, Wolfram sat up in the bed. He startled at the sight of the nurse asleep in a chair in the corner of the room. There was a half-eaten apple on her lap, her fingers wrapped loosely around it. Wolfram looked around. There was no one else in the room. Nothing had changed from the last time he had seen it. There was the same fruit bowl on the large table in the middle of the room. The fruits were different, though, fresh. The table occupied most of the room. There were four chairs at it, just as the table, made of dark oak. 

On Wolfram’s right side, just beside the bed at the wall, there was a dark oak wardrobe. On the other side of the bed was a night stand, also oaken but of lighter color than the rest of the furniture. On the opposite side of the room, at the wall, stood a gigantic dressing table with a mirror. There were also a few paintings on the walls. The most interesting one was with a shepherd riding a sheep, other sheep following him. The funny thing was that the shepherd looked somewhat like a general riding off into battle, leading his men, his pipe raised like a sword. Wolfram could hardly think of a reason why the painting had been hung here, but it made him nostalgic when he thought back about the villagers at the fort.

The bed linens had been changed as well; he could still smell the soap. The bed was half-covered with a blue spread to keep him warm. Wolfram touched himself on the head. Frowning, he lowered his bandaged hand. His hair was still an oily mess of dirt. Changing the linens for him had been a waste.

Heavy, velvet curtains hung alongside of the window on Wolfram’s left. They were dark violet and suddenly, reminded Wolfram of the duke’s hair color. Wolfram tried to shove this thought back where it came from. It didn’t work and he suddenly was forced to face more of his memories. Embarrassment flooded him like hot lead. He closed his eyes slowly and tried to pretend he didn’t exist.

A few minutes later, his bursting bladder and rumbling stomach told him clearly that he did, in fact, exist. Wolfram opened his eyes and climbed out of the bed. By doing that he found out that he was absolutely naked. Not wanting to scare the nurse in case she woke up (however, he suspected that she had not only seen all of his dangly bits already but, as a nurse, had also seen things a lot worse than them), he pulled the blue cover off his bed and wrapped it around his midsection. His slippers were on the rug next to the bed. 

Wolfram reached the table in the middle of the room and then the chair where the bathrobe he had used earlier hung. Vaguely, he remembered the duke promising Athara’s clothes but maybe, after the circus in the baths, he wasn’t entitled to them anymore. 

Once dressed, even if it was only a bathrobe, Wolfram felt more confident. Leaving the nurse to sleep peacefully in her chair, he went into the corridor. Two guards there gave Wolfram long worried looks. Then, one said something. Wolfram offered him a bright smile in return and started walking down the corridor to where he knew the bathroom was. There was some hurried feet shuffling behind Wolfram but the guards didn’t try to stop him, simply falling into step behind him.

They reached the bathroom, and Wolfram wondered what they would do. But they didn’t follow him inside, which Wolfram appreciated immensely. It was warm in the bathroom, which at first surprised the blond. After looking around, though, he noticed a few iron pipes. Central heating was a novelty in Shin Makoku and Gwendal was trying to figure out the best way to implement it into the ancient castle without tearing it apart. It seemed that they were more advanced in Kardera. He couldn’t say he liked that.

The mirror made Wolfram shrink away from it again. He touched his yellowish forehead carefully. Then he took a look at his bandaged hand. He flushed red with embarrassment again. The duke didn’t like him to begin with. Now the man was going to like him even less.

“Half-Demon, huh?” Wolfram muttered. He wondered how many people knew that. Probably very few, only the closest ones. This was a valuable piece of information.

There was no blood in his urine this time, and he was relieved that he, at least, wouldn’t need to think about _this_ problem. That kick to his groin had been unbelievably painful, and he had fretted that there might be some permanent damage. Men who did that to other men should die. 

Wolfram blinked at the washbasin while trying to figure out how to wash his left hand while his right was bandaged; _that_ man probably did. The duke did say that they were going to be hanged. Wolfram decided he wasn’t going to think about that.

The blond left the bathroom and headed back to his room. He reached the corridor where his room was, crossed half of the carpeted floor then suddenly staggered. He was taken aback by how the corridor suddenly expanded in his vision. He heard the guards say something. Then, one of them caught him before he slumped to the floor. Wolfram found himself staring up at a bearded face. The guard said something to him again, and Wolfram shook his head, indicating he didn’t understand him. He regretted the action as it made him even dizzier.

The blond wanted to protest when the guard lifted him and started carrying towards his room. However, even if his pride hurt, he realized the pointlessness of that – he would not be able to walk on his own.

When they entered the room, the nurse woke up with a start, jumped to her feet, and rushed over to them. The blond could hear the apple thumping to the floor and rolling over it. She followed the guard to the bed where he lowered Wolfram. He stayed beside the bed while the nurse fussed around the blond.

In fact, Wolfram felt fine, only somewhat dizzy. He didn’t really understand what was going on. The nurse was asking something but he couldn’t understand a thing she was saying.

“She asked you when it was last time you ate.”

Wolfram turned to the door to see Eldara approaching.

“Oh…” The blond blinked at him. He suddenly realized how absurd it all was; he had fainted from hunger. “Oh…” he repeated. He was supposed to have eaten yesterday, but then the incident in the baths…

“Have a light snack. Don’t overeat, though, or you’ll be sick. And later, you are welcome to join us at the dinner table.”

Wolfram squirmed uncomfortably on the sheets. “Thank you. I’m very sorry for t-”

The duke raised his hand to quiet him down. He found it ridiculous that a man in a sickbed was trying to apologize. The blond had no idea how pitiful he looked lying there helplessly with ghastly pale skin, a bandaged hand, and knotted and lice-infested hair. 

“If you apologize to Rigon, I will consider it never happened.” 

The blond watched him thoughtfully. This was a test again. It seemed that, with the duke, every little thing was a test. The duke wanted to see if he would indeed apologize to a servant. The problem was that Wolfram didn’t know which outcome would please the duke. He felt that it was not wise to disappoint the man while he was under his protection.

The blond nodded. “I will.”

“Splendid,” Eldara said. He motioned the wardrobe next to the bed. “The clothing is there. Choose anything you wish.”

“Thank you.”

“There is one matter, though,” the duke said, making Wolfram tense up. “It would be best if you cut your hair.”

“Why?” Wolfram asked, at once feeling protective of his hair. People often complimented his hair. Even Yuuri had complimented it.

“You have lice. Besides, it is doubtful you will be able to brush it out.” By the way the blond was staring at him with a horrified look on his face, Eldara realized that this was probably first time Wolfram had lice.

“Lice?” Wolfram repeated numbly. “I have lice?”

“Mm… Yes?” He didn’t understand why the blond was so shocked about this. Indeed, the man was narcissistic to his bones. “Simply cut it short. It will grow back in no time.”

Wolfram touched his hair. It did feel unpleasant, the entangled and oily mass. He was going to have to cut it, wasn’t he? Then Wolfram returned to his previous thought: Yuuri had complimented his hair, hadn’t he? The blond was suddenly overcome with bitterness. Why was it that he still tried to cater to Yuuri?

“No problem,” Wolfram said. “I’ll cut it as soon as I eat. I wouldn’t want to spread them around,” he added after the duke gave him a somewhat surprised look. It was obvious that the man hadn’t expected him to give in so easily.

“Very well. I’ll inform my barber.”

The duke left, and Wolfram found himself staring at the ceiling. He still felt weakness in his limbs and just lay on his back while listening to the nurse discussing something with one of the servants. Later the voices broke off, and he heard the door close as the servant hurried off to fulfill the orders he had been given.

“Could have been worse,” Wolfram muttered. His eyes kept roaming over the ceiling. He could have been killed or tortured. He could have been sold or raped. Or everything at once could have happened. In comparison to that, waking up in Kardera was a gift from above. Wolfram wondered briefly if there was another room above the ceiling and who lived there. The duke wasn’t an unpleasant man, he was simply…forceful. Wolfram wasn’t very good with people like that. Gwendal was forceful, maybe even more than Eldara, but Gwendal was his brother and he was sometimes allowed the luxury of telling Gwendal to shove it where the sun does not shine. It wouldn’t work with the duke.

Wolfram grinned at the ceiling imagining the duke’s face. Maybe he should try that. Just to see the reaction.

“Ah, I see Your Highness is in a good mood.”

The blond turned his head to look at a man who had just entered the room.

“I’m Roldan Efibus, your doctor, Sir.”

“Pleased to meet you. Thank you for taking care of me.”

Approaching the bed, the doctor nodded in answer. “I hear Sir fainted today?”

“Yes. That was probably because I haven’t been having regular meals for quite some time.”

“Well, yes, that would definitely do that, Sir.”

Wolfram took a more careful look at the doctor. The man had the face of a hard-working man, maybe of a friendly coacher, but there was also something about it suggesting that he liked using a whip on his horses as well.

“You are His Grace’s personal doctor, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Sir. It could be put like that. In general, I look after the health of von Ashira household.”

The whip must be handy: Wolfram could imagine that it took three men and five horses to keep the duke down in bed even when he was fevered.

“Does Sir experience any pains, discomfort?”

“Mmm… No, not really.”

“What about Sir’s head? Any spells of dizziness, headache?”

“No, not anymore.”

“Was there any blood in Sir’s water?”

Wolfram blanched at this. “No, today there wasn’t any and it doesn’t hurt anymore,” he said, putting into his answer all information he could manage so that the doctor wouldn’t need to ask him anything else.

Under normal circumstances, the doctor would have asked for permission to examine him, but the way the blond tensed up suddenly, made him change his mind. The young von Bielefeld didn’t feel secure and, keeping in mind the incident in the baths, right now it was better not to push him into anything he didn’t want.

Both of them turned to look at the door as there was a brief knock and then the servant whom Wolfram had seen hurrying off to fulfill the nurse’s instructions entered. He was carrying a tray. The blond’s heart rate suddenly sped up, and his stomach rumbled. Saliva flooded his mouth and only then did he realize that all this time he had really been starving.

“Don’t eat much and chew well, Sir,” the doctor warned after catching the feral look on the blond’s face.

Wolfram nodded quickly. He was already climbing out of the bed, his ravenous eyes following the tray’s journey from the door to the large table in the middle of the room. He took a seat in front of a bowl of wondrously aromatic soup. Wolfram wanted to lift the plate and drink it at once like an uncouth hic. However, the presence of three people in the room forced Wolfram to pick up the spoon and take it slow. And he took it slow, frustratingly slow, as he wasn’t able to use his right hand.

It tasted heavenly. He chewed thoroughly on small pieces of potatoes, chicken, and noodles. It was pure bliss. He finished the bowl and wanted more but there was nothing else on the tray. Wolfram’s hungry eyes went to the large fruit bowl on the table but the doctor’s voice made him turn away from it.

“In a few minutes Sir will feel as if he has eaten a horse; I suggest Sir leaves that bowl of fruit alone.”

With one last look at the fruits, filled with longing, Wolfram left the table and went back to bed. He didn’t feel like he had eaten a horse, but, true enough, soon he felt full and sleepy.

He woke up to the sound of someone whispering. However, there was no one in the room when he looked around. It was just heavy rain chattering and falling down the window. It was hard to tell which time of day it was. Wolfram realized he had slept through the dinner he had been invited to. There was not much guilt, though; the duke would surely understand. Besides, it was not as if he had wanted to go – every time he met the man, there was always some kind of trial presented to him.

Wolfram turned to his side to stare at the flowing rain. Soon it was going to start snowing in Kardera. Winter would always come to Kardera almost two weeks earlier than to Shin Makoku. He didn’t like winters, neither did he particularly like summers. He liked springs and autumns but, even then, he liked them only when it wasn’t too cold or too hot or too rainy.

“Hmm…”

Gwendal was right – he was unbelievably hard to please.

Wolfram looked at his bandaged hand. The doctor had said nothing about it, thus it was probably going to be alright. Served him right. He touched his hair. He still needed to cut it and put himself in order. If he had to go and join the whole von Ashira family at dinner, he had to look presentable.

Even if that meant he was going to have to wear the duke’s younger brother’s clothing, and, at the same time, try not to spill anything on it while eating with his left hand.

Wolfram groaned softly. However, the prospective indignity was soon drowned out by his rumbling stomach. He was hungry and wanted to go to the bathroom. He chose to go to the bathroom first. 

There were two different guards at his door this time; the watch change must have transpired while he had been asleep. The guards were unnerved by him but followed him mutely. Obviously, they had been informed that it was pointless to talk to him as he couldn’t understand.

When Wolfram returned to his room, he saw that nothing had changed; there was still no one there. It seemed he had been forgotten. He sat down at the table and ate three different fruits. Feeling full, he rose and went to inspect the wardrobe. Just as the duke had said, it was filled with clothes. They were a little too glittery for Wolfram’s taste as he was more used to plain uniforms and shirts but beggars couldn’t be choosers. However, he couldn’t help thinking that his taste in clothing ran closer to the older von Ashira’s than his brother’s.

Wolfram picked a shirt and a pair of trousers that he preferred and closed the wardrobe door. He wanted to take a bath again and to cut his hair. He wasn’t certain which should come first.

“Oh.”

The blond turned his head to the door to see the nurse enter the room. She had come in without knocking but Wolfram dismissed this as her not wanting to wake him up in case he was still asleep.

Wolfram pointed at his head then took a handful of his matted hair and tried to scissor with his bandaged fingers. His attempt was rewarded with sharp pain. He winced and frowned but the nurse nodded her head in understanding and opened the door to say something to one of the guards. She returned into the room and took her usual seat in the corner.

Feeling self-conscious, the blond sat down on the bed to wait. He was suddenly caught in a bout of itch. He was scratching his head furiously, when he suddenly remembered why exactly he was scratching it. Disgusted, he removed his hand. The nurse smiled at him encouragingly. That only made it worse as Wolfram wasn’t certain what she was encouraging him to do. To scratch a hole through his head? He returned an awkward smile.

Goddamn that Eldara! Couldn’t he finally find someone who could speak at least a garbled Shin Makoku dialect? Anyone would do!

After about ten minutes of uncomfortable waiting, there was a knock on the door and a man, whom Wolfram deemed to be a barber, entered the room.

“Your hair, Sir, cut?” he asked or stated, lowering a bundle of something that jingled on the table.

Wolfram nodded and walked over to him.

“Sir, short cut hair?”

“Yes, short cut hair,” Wolfram answered and immediately was overtaken by immense feeling of guilt; just a minute ago he had been begging for anyone who could at least utter a few words in any dialect. “Yes, please, cut it short,” he corrected himself. It was obvious that the word order differed in the two languages. At least the man was making an effort.

Only then did the barber seem to notice the hairy entangled mass on Wolfram’s head. He appeared to be aghast but recovered in a second. He pulled one of the chairs farther off the table and showed Wolfram to sit down. When he did, the barber eyed the heap of dirty and infested blond hair again.

“Short cut hair, alright, Sir?” he said, a little unsure.

“Yes. Just cut it.”

Wolfram watched puffs of entangled hair fall on the cover on his lap. There were an awful lot of them. He poked one particularly big and greasy. Take that, Yuuri. Maybe he should shave his head bald?

Wolfram shuddered at the thought. Even Yuuri wasn’t worth such sacrifice.

“Finish,” said the barber about twenty minutes later.

“Thank you.”

His head felt much lighter. Interested, Wolfram patted himself on the head. He grimaced both at the startling shortness and greasiness. The barber deserved a reward for working in such drastic conditions. Only that currently Wolfram was as poor as a temple mouse and could only give promises.

It took Wolfram some time to explain to the nurse what he wanted next. In the end, the barber joined him and, in a few minutes, the blond had a bottle of lice killing shampoo in his hands. He was also informed of a few instructions of its usage.

“Tub baths in ten minutes,” the barber interpreted the nurse’s prattle.

Wolfram nodded to show that he had understood and sat down to wait. The barber didn’t seem to be going anywhere. Maybe he was waiting for his general approval on his job well done? Wolfram didn’t particularly want to look at himself right now, but decided to get on with it and went to the wardrobe. The mirror was on the other side of the door.

“Ugh,” he said at the sight of himself. Realizing how that sounded, he squeezed out a smile and clapped himself on the head a few times in what should have passed as content pats. 

The barber gave him a fearful look, gathered his tools and rushed out of the room with a very polite goodbye. Wolfram was aware that he didn’t manage to fool anyone. Short. His hair was very short. It was also oily and stuck to his head like a glove. He looked like a drowned rat. Yes, definitely a rat with a yellowish bump on its forehead.

Wolfram closed the door and decided to pretend he hadn’t seen anything. Otherwise, he might just go hysterical again.

Tbc


	9. Part 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N 1: Yuuri – 18 years old. Wolfram – 20. Eldara – 31. Halea – 20. Athara – 18.  
> A/N 2: Greta doesn’t exist.  
> A/N 3: European/American/Japanese standards all at once depending on the plot requirements.  
> A/N 4: A tendency to ignore the anime/manga and supplement the story with my own imagined facts.   
> A/N 5: Season III is not taken into consideration, except for the fact that Wolfram’s uncle exists.  
> A/N 6: The umlaut in Gunter’s name is a bother.

**Bloom**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by HARPG0

Part 9

The shampoo had an unpleasant smell and Wolfram was frowning while rubbing it into his hair. When he was done, he sat down on a bench to wait for ten minutes. This time, no servant went to the baths with him, and he was blissfully alone. He would have enjoyed it if not for the knowledge that nobody followed him. He was certain that the servants in the household were of the opinion that he was a dangerous nutcase.

They were probably right.

Sighing, Wolfram patted himself on his head. He wished for the little bastards to die faster.

After washing his hair, he climbed into the tub which had been prepared for him. This time, he didn’t even think about using one of the pools. Wincing and gritting his teeth in pain, he unwrapped the bandages off his right hand and threw them onto the floor. It wasn’t a pleasant sight, his hand: his fingers and palm had been cut in many places, the gashes red and swollen. He would not be able to wield a sword for some time. He was also too weak to use his fire element efficiently.

Wolfram reclined his head and closed his eyes. It seemed that he had to completely rely on the duke’s protection. Not that he believed there was any danger to him in the castle. His thoughts were much clearer now and he understood how his accusation and actions had been uncalled for. The man didn’t like him, but one could not afford to be enemies with Shin Makoku. Gwendal von Voltaire wasn’t someone you wanted to mess around with.

He would have liked some assistance – it took him awhile to wash himself with one hand. Washing his hair had already been a feat in itself. It took him some skill to dress in his bathrobe without aggravating his right hand too much.

When Wolfram walked back to his room, he found a man standing at the door, near the guards. It was a Human of about fifty; brown-haired, his forehead and the top of his head were already marked by an early loss of hair. When Wolfram came closer, the man bowed.

“Your Highness.”

“Yes? Hello,” Wolfram said, brushing over his damp hair with a towel. It was awkward to stand on the carpet in front of the door in only a bathrobe and slippers while the guards and the man were staring at him.

“I’m Ahezi Forena, Sir. Your interpreter.”

“Oh.” It was a surprise actually. Wolfram had been certain that he would have to go around without one at least for two more weeks. He nodded. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise, Sir.”

Ahezi was nervous. Wolfram could see that. He wondered what kind of myths the servants had created about him. Or, maybe, it was something the duke had said.

“I will dress myself and then we will discuss everything,” Wolfram said, opening the door to his room. “I’d like to dress alone, if you please,” he added when the interpreter wanted to follow him. The man gave him a confused look then blushed.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Sir!” he exclaimed anxiously.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” Wolfram muttered shutting the door behind himself. 

Even though it took a great deal of grunting and wincing, Wolfram somehow managed to dress. He looked at himself in the mirror. It wasn’t that bad. His hair had almost dried already and wasn’t sticking to his head so much (the short haircut was making him look even younger but Wolfram wasn’t so certain that it was a bad thing). The green jacket and black trousers did glitter but they also made the yellowish spot on his forehead less noticeable. He couldn’t see but could feel the underwear that wasn’t his. It wasn’t very comfortable – it was too loose and drafty. He knew he was only imagining things but habits were habits. It was first time he was wearing someone else’s underwear. He hoped it would also be the last.

Wolfram went to open the door and invited Ahezi inside. They sat down at the table where the interpreter told the blond that he had been put up in one of the rooms in the castle and was going to be at his service at any time during his stay.

The knock on the door startled Wolfram; he had almost forgotten the sound. He gave the permission to enter and the duke walked into the room. Eldara met the sight of the interpreter sitting next to Wolfram with approval. He nodded at Ahezi then turned to the blond. If he thought anything of Wolfram’s considerably shorter hair, his face didn’t show it.

“Would you care to join us for lunch, Wolfram?”

“Well, yes…”

The uncertain manner of the blond’s answer made the duke notice the way he favored his hand, keeping it slightly away from himself and how the interpreter was inconspicuously sniffing the air. Wolfram had just taken a bath and, suddenly, Eldara was suspicious that no one had attended to him. That made him furious. It wouldn’t do anyone, especially when that “anyone” was a von Bielefeld, saying that he was an unwelcoming host.

“Where’s Mela?”

“Mm… Who?”

“The nurse,” the duke specified.

Wolfram saw Eldara looking at his hand, and the displeasure in the duke’s lower than usual voice and eyes told Wolfram that the nurse was out of favor. He wasn’t certain what happened when one was out of the duke’s favor. It was probably best not to know.

“I don’t know,” he said, without any desire to interfere with a master’s relationship with his servant. “She was here just before I went to the baths.” Wolfram hoped that the woman would at least bring some tea with her when she returned. Then he thought that he could have easily avoided all this by saying that she had excused herself to go to the bathroom. But it was too late now.

The duke gave Wolfram a look and, with that, the nurse, carrying a tray with what seemed to be swathes and ointments, entered the room. She curtsied and went to lay it down onto the table then turned to Wolfram, and said something.

“She will treat and bandage your hand, Sir,” the interpreter translated quickly.

Wolfram sat down at the table, not missing the approving nod the duke gave Ahezi for translating the sentence. Eldara watched the nurse’s gentle fingers spreading the ointment over the blond’s injured hand for a few seconds, then, deciding that there was nothing of interest, turned his attention back to the interpreter.

“You don’t need to attend lunch,” he said to the translator. “It is in fifteen minutes.” His words now were directed at Wolfram. “You really don’t need to worry about your awkward left hand or the smelly ointment in your hair; we’ve certainly seen worse. Now, if you’d excuse me.”

Not certain how to take this, Wolfram watched the duke exit the room. Were these the words of encouragement or was the duke laughing at him? The interpreter, however, had had a revelation – now he knew what it was in the room which stank so much. Then Wolfram became aware that he could hear the duke’s soft reprimanding voice behind the door as he was talking to the guards.

\---

From across the table, Wolfram smiled at Halea politely. He was somewhat suspicious of the seating arrangement but it wasn’t that he disliked it – it was certainly better than to be seated opposite the duke.

“So how are you feeling, Wolfram?” Athara asked while one of the servants was filling his plate with what looked like fried fish in a rich, reddish sauce. 

“Thank you, much better,” Wolfram answered thinking that if he was so interested, he should have just come and visited him in his room. Then, he thought that the duke probably hadn’t permitted that for the safety reasons. “I’m very sorry for that incident in the baths. I wasn’t myself.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Athara said, waving it off dismissively with his hand.

“Yes, forget it,” Halea said. “You should see Eldara in the mornings,” she chuckled. “In comparison to that, you…”

Wolfram became aware that she didn’t know how to finish her thought as she suddenly realized that she could easily insult him by choosing wrong words. Halea’s lapse was immediately corrected by the duke clearing his throat and raising his glass of wine to toast him.

“All’s well that ends well. Isn’t that right, Wolfram?”

The blond nodded and raised his glass as well to salute him. “Certainly, Eldara.” The duke’s name felt so alien on his tongue that he nearly winced. 

The duke noticed his reaction and laughed softly. He was aware of the fact that, in Shin Makoku, the tradition of using the last name for elder people was prevalent. “You make me feel old,” he chuckled, taking a sip from his glass.

“Ah, I didn’t mea-” Wolfram started.

“Well, you _are_ older,” Halea said. “By eleven years, to be exact. You’re twenty, Wolfram, aren’t you? As me.”

The surprise was great and Wolfram didn’t manage to hide it. He realized that Halea had intended to make him feel better but, instead, he was astonished. All this time, he had believed that Eldara was only a couple of years older than him. Certainly, it didn’t make any difference in the long run, but there was a huge difference when one was twenty and the other thirty-one.

“I am half-Human, Wolfram,” the duke reminded him, surprised by Wolfram’s surprise.

If they were in Shin Makoku, he would definitely have said “half-Demon”. Wolfram wondered how the fact had somehow slipped past his perception. He had known and he hadn’t. It was, very likely, the result of his ungodly state in the baths at the time when he had been given the details.

“Well, yes, I did,” Wolfram agreed. “It had somehow escaped me.”

Wolfram had the same fish Athara had been eating and then ate a bowl of lentil soup. He liked the food. He guessed that the menu had been specially adapted to him: there was no food on the table which was hard to digest and there weren’t any extravagant dishes. He was grateful for that.

It was a little awkward, the atmosphere at the lunch table. Ironically, that was probably because Halea was trying so hard to make him feel welcome. The duke seemed to be amused by her attempts while Athara watched her with evident surprise in his eyes.

After lunch, the blond returned to his room to rest. He felt much better but it had still required a lot of energy to attend lunch. It hadn’t been as bad as he had imagined. He lay down on the bed intending to close his eyes for a few minutes but, when he woke up, it was evening already.

Confused, Wolfram looked around. Then, when the sound repeated itself, he realized that he had been awakened by a knock at the door.

“Yes?” he croaked groggily, rubbing at his face.

“It’s Roldan Efibus.”

“Who?”

“Your doctor, Your Highness.”

“Oh, right. Come in,” Wolfram said, a little embarrassed for not remembering the name.

“And how does Sir feel today?” the doctor asked. He walked over to the bed, lowered his case to the floor. It was dark in the room. The blond was sitting on the bed, obviously, just awakened. “We’ll need more light, Sir. I will ask someone to light the candles, may I?”

The blond nodded, yawning. “I’m much better. I got a little tired during lunch and then dozed off.”

On his way to the door, the doctor’s steps slowed down. He turned around to look at the blond. “Sir can refuse to attend meals. Spending time in His Grace’s presence can be stressful,” he added carefully after Wolfram gave him an uncertain look. “Sir can always say He is still not feeling well.”

Without saying a word, the blond shook his head. The doctor shrugged and continued walking towards the door. He opened the door and asked one of the guards to bring something so that there would be more light in the room.

“Thank you for the advice,” Wolfram said when the doctor returned, “but I had a good time.” He was exaggerating a great deal but he wasn’t going to admit anything.

“I see. Does Sir have any complaints?” the doctor asked. “Bouts of dizziness, any pains, headaches?”

“No. I feel a little weak, but no dizziness or pain.”

“Very good, Sir.” It seemed that von Bielefeld’s health was improving fast. He was sleeping a lot but that was to be expected after physical and mental exhaustion. Sleep was also the reason why he was getting better so quickly. It was also, probably, time to press the youngster with more private matters. “No red water as far as I understood?”

“Err… No. Everything seems to be fine.”

“No pains? No erectile dysfunction? Can Sir get an erection?” the doctor asked in explanatory tone when it was obvious from Wolfram’s blank face that he wasn’t certain what the doctor meant.

“I don’t know,” the blond answered after a pause. Even in the near darkness the doctor could see that von Bielefeld became concerned. All men reacted very sensitively to anything which had at least something to do with potency.

There was a knock on the door and a servant entered holding a burning candlestick in his hand. The candles and two oil lamps flared to life. 

“There shouldn’t be permanent damage, Sir,” the doctor continued when the servant had left, “but it would be better to make certain that everything’s alright.”

“What? Right now?” Wolfram asked, incredulous, when the doctor just kept silent and kept on giving him an insistent look. 

The doctor was tempted to tell him that they could wait for a few years and then see if it hadn’t rotten and fallen off by that time, but, instead, only gave a short encouraging smile.

“Yes. And I won’t touch anything, Sir,” he said when von Bielefeld moved away from him cautiously to the farther corner of the bed. He turned his back to the blond.

Wolfram grimaced at the doctor’s back. Then, seeing how he was left no choice, stood up and started unbuckling his belt. He more or less trusted the doctor, but also knew that he reported every tiny detail to the duke. And, as much as Wolfram didn’t want to be impotent, he also didn’t want the duke to know that.

He pulled his trousers and underwear down and sat down onto the bed. He took a look at his limp disinterested self nestling passively among blond curls. He didn’t remember getting an erection since he had been kicked in the groin. It didn’t even appear in the mornings. Maybe at night… Overtaken by a sudden bout of panic, Wolfram fisted himself and started stroking. It felt awkward to do it with his left hand, clumsy somehow. Nothing happened at first. Then, it began to stiffen and the blond exhaled in relief, his shoulders sagging.

“Everything’s fine,” he announced the results to the doctor, who, hearing his reassured voice, smiled at the opposite wall.

“That’s splendid, Your Highness.”

Momentarily, burning redness spread over Wolfram’s face and he quickly pulled his underwear and trousers on. Wolfram read more in the doctor’s voice: the fact that he was able to get an erection didn’t mean yet that he was able to orgasm and deposit seed. It was also a fact that he was going to try and see later if everything was functioning normally.

“What about eating, Sir? Any problems with digestion?” the doctor asked when the blond gave a sign that it was safe to turn around.

“No, no problems at all.”

“Very well. May I take a look at your forehead, Sir?”

“Yes, of course.”

Wolfram grunted painfully when the doctor’s fingers prodded at the yellowish lump. The doctor hadn’t been certain but now was assured that the skull underneath had been cracked. It would have been a guaranteed death for a Human. He removed his hand while watching the tension drain from the blond’s shoulders. He turned Wolfram’s head towards the oil lamp on the bedside cabinet and examined his eyes. Both of his pupils were of nearly the same size already. One could hardly notice the difference. The emerald-green eyes also were able to focus on and follow his fingers without failing.

“I’m glad to say that Sir’s health is improving at a very fast pace.”

Wolfram’s face brightened considerably. “And I’m certainly glad to hear that.”

Soon, after the doctor had left, the duke visited Wolfram asking if he would like to have dinner with him and his family. It was clear to Wolfram how it would come across if he refused; the doctor must have already assured the duke that he was in perfect health condition to attend it.

Sleeping with his clothes on gave them a few creases, but it was nothing too noticeable, and, after a couple of tentative glances at himself in the mirror and a visit to the bathroom, Wolfram went to attend dinner. 

He had already noticed the additional attention the servants were giving during lunch. But, now, they were even sharper looking and, as soon as he asked for his plate to be filled with salad, two of the three hurried to him almost head-butting each other out of the way. 

When Wolfram compared the servants to those in Blood Pledge Castle, here they were much more constrained, every command from their masters was fulfilled without any questions or delay. The tradition in Blood Pledge Castle was somehow not so strict. The servants served there all their lives and, then, their children undertook the task. Hence, everybody knew everybody and the master-servant relationships were much warmer.

In the middle of the dinner, a servant was sent to the kitchen to get more gravy. The gravy boat soon appeared in the door but it was carried by a different servant, and Wolfram suddenly knew where the catch was; it was the same servant he had unreasonably attacked in the baths. His nose was still black and blue. The duke expected him to apologize now, in front of everybody, even the servants. For a moment, he felt angry with the duke – couldn’t the man give him a break? But then he thought that, having promised to apologize and not done so, he probably, more or less, deserved that.

The servant carefully lowered the gravy boat onto the table then Wolfram stood up and called the servant’s name to get his attention. The man gave him a startled look.

“I offer my most sincere apologies for attacking you back then, in the baths. I hope I didn’t cause much damage. If I can be of any help…” he left it hanging hopefully.

The duke translated the words to the servant, who, then, started to fidget, obviously embarrassed and uncomfortable. He gave the blond a troubled smile, and words started pouring out of his mouth.

“He says it’s alright,” Eldara said to Wolfram. “He knows it hasn’t been done purposefully.”

The apology went smoother than Eldara had expected. He also hadn’t expected that von Bielefeld would take the servant’s appearance as a cue to apologize. It was probably better that he had, making the matter finally done and over with. The duke looked at the blond where he was giving the salad in his plate his full attention. He seemed to be hungry. The doctor had warned him about this – von Bielefeld’s appetite was going to increase and he would be continuously plagued by lethargy. Wolfram was unbelievably tenacious. Even the doctor was impressed at such a quick recovery rate. Were there a Human in his place, he would have died at least three times already: the hit to his head, which had cracked his skull would have been first; a Human wouldn’t have managed to reach the shore, then, when the pirates had been escaping; any other would have died of pneumonia after spending so much time in the ice-cold sea. Demons were creepy and dangerous.

“Is there any news from Shin Makoku?” Wolfram asked.

Eldara shook his head. “No, not yet. The sea has been stormy these past two days and the weather forecast is the same for tomorrow. But we should expect the news to reach us this week.”

“Actually, which weekday is it today?” Wolfram asked.

“It’s Wednesday,” Athara said.

Wolfram reached his hand out for the bowl of fruit on the table. Then, he gave a startled look to the servant who had raced to the table and grabbed the bowl, holding it out for him. Wolfram, whose hand now was stretched out past the bowl, laughed softly. He took an apple and leaned back into his chair.

\---

The other two days were very similar to the previous one: he breakfasted, lunched, and had dinner with the whole von Ashira family. Most of other times he slept, had his hand tended to, washed his hair with the stinky liquid for lice again, bathed, had a few challenging conversations with the duke, and a few awkward ones with his sister. The interaction with Halea drove him into the corner as he felt it was his fault that they somehow couldn’t find common grounds. She did her best to choose neutral, light topics, but he still found himself being drained and soon could only think about what to say next. As a man, he felt disappointed in himself.

Athara, the youngest in von Ashira family, didn’t pay him much attention: he was polite, maintained the necessary level of conversation, asked about his health but never more. Athara kept his distance. But Wolfram, more or less, knew the type thanks to his days from studying at the Military Academy. Athara was trouble, a pure, walking trouble, and Wolfram tried to stay away from him as well.

\---

Indeed, they received a letter from Shin Makoku on Saturday evening. The duke, so that there would be no suspicions on von Bielefeld’s side, asked him to come to his study to be present when the letter was opened. At his entrance to the study, Wolfram watched Eldara twirl the letter between his fingers. There was the Shin Makoku King’s seal on it. The duke seemed to be amused, and Wolfram knew why: Eldara had sent a letter to Gwendal von Voltaire and, now, had received a reply from the Demon King Himself.

“He believes I have you chained to a wall,” the duke said matter-of-factly, while Wolfram was seating himself in a chair opposite his desk. “In my dungeons,” he added for good measure, breaking the seal. He couldn’t really blame the man – his reputation gave von Voltaire enough grounds to suspect him of such. Wolfram, however, didn’t know and didn’t need to know that. “I am certain that he is going to send an army of servants to cater to your needs,” Eldara said, unfolding the letter.

Wolfram started to get annoyed by the unceasing flow of cynicism. “Well, they would at least be able to understand me.”

The duke nodded. “Yes, besides, you can also beat them up all to your heart’s content.”

Wolfram was shocked that Eldara mentioned that; he had believed it had been over with his apology. But the duke held his gaze calmly. Wolfram’s eyes flashed in anger. “It was an accident!”

“And it makes it alright?”

Wolfram was short of grabbing Eldara and shaking him for good measure. The duke became aware that he had overstepped the line. He liked teasing the blond but too much was too much.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…”

“Just read the damn letter, Eldara!” Wolfram snarled at him, now painfully aware that it was only a game to the duke. He made it his business to turn every word into a battle of wills. Wolfram was also annoyed with himself for reacting so intensively to anything he said and playing into the duke’s hand.

The duke gave the blond a look. He suddenly felt compelled to tell von Bielefeld that the current haircut looked much better on him than the one he remembered seeing a few months ago. He looked sharper, more masculine. Saying that now, however, would only result in von Bielefeld getting suspicious of his words and taking them as an insult. 

“Right.” The duke concentrated on the letter. “If the sea is benevolent,” he read, “they are going to be here in six days. Otherwise, they will have to wait for better weather.”

“Who’s ‘ _they_ ’?” Wolfram asked.

“Your suite, apparently.” Eldara read further then lowered the letter onto the desk. “Congratulations, Wolfram. Your King gave you the status of the Royal Emissary. You are here to express His Royal Will.”

Wolfram stared at a very amused Eldara. “His Royal Will of what?” he asked, feeling like laughing as well; Gwendal and Yuuri were just too much.

The duke chuckled softly. “I’m afraid it doesn’t say here. You’ll have to figure that out on your own.” He pushed the letter over the desk for Wolfram to read it. “Your best shot would be that His Royal Will is for both countries to start a sea trading route. Or something like that at any rate. I can arrange a few meetings with merchants.”

“I think I’ll just wait for my suite to arrive,” Wolfram muttered absentmindedly, reading the letter; it was all just like the duke had read to him. “I’m not that good at trading. I wouldn’t want you to take advantage of that.” He folded the letter and returned it to Eldara.

“Now, now, Wolfram. I would definitely not take any advantage of you.” He could see that von Bielefeld hardly managed to keep himself from rolling his eyes. “How many of them do you think there will be?” Eldara asked.

Wolfram gave him a searching look. The duke’s right eyebrow rose at him. Wolfram wished he were more experienced, more cunning. He was out of his depths here.

“Don’t be so suspicious, Wolfram. I just want to make sure there are enough rooms for everyone. Do you really believe I would go against your brother? It would be foolish to make an enemy of him.”

“It would be,” Wolfram agreed. He knew, however, that this would be a good opportunity to start war; he could be a perfect hostage. It didn’t even depend on Eldara. If the King of Kardera gave his orders, the Duke of Raizgad could do nothing but obey.

Wolfram sighed. “There will probably be ten or twelve people. All male, in heavy armor, and trained to kill. No servants.”

Impressed, the duke rubbed his chin then lowered his hands to the desk. “Well, who can blame him? You’re his youngest brother,” he said, shrugging. “Family always comes first for von Voltaire.”

“Yes, that’s for certain,” Wolfram agreed.

“His family is his only weakness, isn’t it?”

Wolfram shrugged lightly. “Probably.” _It’s your weakness, too_ , the blond thought.

Tbc


	10. Part 10

**Bloom**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by HARPG0

Part 10

The sentimental melody which was coiling and spreading from under the harpist’s fingers was lulling Wolfram to sleep. He kept reminding himself that he couldn’t do that as Halea had specially invited the musician to entertain him. Wolfram turned and smiled at Halea, trying to adapt the expression of utter bliss on his face. Judging by how she looked at him, he had a feeling he wasn’t very successful. Never before had he needed to act so much, and, unfortunately, every little lie he tried to tell with his face was easily seen through.

Halea, though, didn’t seem to mind his little faux pas and turned away, slowly sinking back into the music’s romantic embrace. The harpist’s nimble fingers were filling Wolfram’s vision when he began to wonder if his spending so much time with Halea was appropriate. The blond’s eyes left the harp to measure the properness of the distance between him and the young woman on the lavish sofa: about fifty centimeters. Certainly, he didn’t ever give any reason to anyone to think he was after something because, in fact, he really wasn’t. However, one had to be careful about creating wrong impressions and starting rumors.

When Athara entered the music room in search of his sister, he was greeted by the sight of von Bielefeld and Halea sprawled over the sofa, both put out of their misery by the chords of the syrupy melody, which was endlessly filling the room. Von Bielefeld was drooling on his sister’s dress. It was one of her favorites, the one she would wear when she wanted to impress men; she believed it accentuated the color of her eyes and hair.

Athara motioned for the harpist to stop playing; the musician probably simply enjoyed the opportunity to play and didn’t want to stop even after his audience had been lulled to sleep. The sounds stilled, the room falling completely silent. The youngest von Ashira concentrated back on the sleeping couple. The sight would have been comical if it had not been so disturbing. He didn’t like von Bielefeld at all and he couldn’t exactly tell why, which was disturbing enough in itself. He didn’t know much about Wolfram except for those things he had told Eldara about the blond at the academy. So far, during his stay in the castle, von Bielefeld had left a quite unstable impression of himself, making it hard for anyone to make any conclusions about his character. Halea, in spite of anything, seemed to be smitten with him. If Eldara’s plan succeeded, soon von Bielefeld would become their brother-in-law. The prospect of that made Athara’s hands itch with the need to hit something.

The sea was stormy, and the weather forecast for the next few days was the same, thus the blond’s suite would have to stay at the port waiting for better weather to sail. Athara wished for them to come faster and take von Bielefeld away. It wasn’t going to be so easy, though: the doctor said something about not moving the blond for the next three weeks, and there was that unclear matter of His Royal Will. Wolfram was an emissary now. Without a doubt, it was just a means of giving von Bielefeld the immunity, but didn’t it also mean he was going to stay here longer?

He should have just died in the sea.

\---

Wolfram woke up from his dream with a start. He had dreamt he was still on the pirate ship, the money for his ransom had never come, and he was standing on the end of a wooden plank. In the next moment, he was thrown over the board with his hands and legs tied.

Wiping the drool off his mouth, the blond wondered vaguely why they bothered to tie him up. As far as he had been able to tell, there was the sea, the sea, and the sea everywhere. There was not a chance he would be able to reach a shore. The blond looked at Halea’s blue dress, particularly her wet shoulder. Feeling a little seasick, he wondered what he should do about the wet spot. Drying it with a napkin would be a little… He should just leave while she was asleep. Gods knew what Halea would think of him sleeping with his head on her shoulder. Something of the romantic sort, clearly. Women always did.

Yawning and trying to be as silent as it was possible, Wolfram reached the door. As soon as he opened it, he met face to face with the duke. The man retracted his hand from the doorknob and moved aside politely, letting the blond pass.

“I was just looking for you,” he said. “I was thinking about going for a ride in the park. Care to join m-?”

“Certainly!” Wolfram shot before Eldara could even finish. “Now? Great! I’ll need a warm jacket, though. And boots,” he added. “And gloves.”

The duke gave an amused look to Wolfram’s back. He was already hurrying down the corridor burning with excitement. Eldara slightly pushed the door to the music room open to see his sister sleeping on the sofa blissfully oblivious to her surroundings. Grinning, he closed the door softly.

Athara was away but the duke didn’t think his brother would mind von Bielefeld borrowing some of his clothes. Thus, in fifteen minutes, the blond was set to go outside. During his more than a week’s stay in Raizgad, it was the first time Wolfram had been outside of the castle. The weather was cold and a little windy, but it wasn’t drizzling and the blond was simply happy to be in fresh air.

Climbing downstairs to where the horses stood ready, the duke wished his brother would ever be at least half-as-excited as Wolfram was now when he invited his brother for a ride. Athara didn’t like riding and abhorred horses in general.

“Just take it slow,” Eldara warned, when he saw Wolfram swing himself into the saddle easily. “I am certain that riding is not a very good idea for a man who has just suffered a concussion.”

“Why, in the world, did you invite me, then?” Then Wolfram gasped as if he had just had a revelation. “Could it be you plan to get rid of me this way?” he asked with a grin, exuding his good mood right through his face, jacket, and boots. He rubbed his hands together, ready to grasp the reins out of the servant’s hold and urge the horse forward.

Eldara chuckled. “No. I would have come up with a better plan. You simply seemed like you were close to starting to climb walls from boredom. Just don’t gallop. Foot’s pace is enough for you.”

Wolfram looked a little disappointed, but he couldn’t agree more. He watched the duke climb onto his horse and take the reins from the servant holding them. He wondered if Eldara was a good rider. If he were well, he would just race the duke to test him out. Now, however, he could only follow the duke’s horse, which started trotting towards the road leading through the gate into the park. 

It had been a frosty morning, the ground hard and glittery. It was unfrozen now but there was no slush. Wolfram’s horse had to trudge along the road leading through the park while the duke galloped through the trees. Longingly, Wolfram watched this. Eldara was a good rider, not one of the best, but good. The duke’s horse was happy with the exercise it was getting, the man hardly needing to urge it forward. It was almost certainly showing off. Wolfram lowered his head to look at the horse underneath him. It was half-asleep, probably wondering what kind of an oaf it was carrying.

The duke galloped around the park one more time then sidled up to Wolfram, who was forlornly following the road through the park. Eldara accepted the blond’s glare as deserved. 

“We’ll race once you’re better,” he promised, still a little breathless. 

“I’ll hold you to that,” Wolfram said, still sulking. “Then you will be the one staring at my horse’s tail.”

Eldara laughed softly. “Are you a good rider?” he asked. He pulled his gloves off to grasp the band which had started to slide out of his hair.

Wolfram nodded. “Yes, I am.”

“To tell you the truth, you didn’t strike me as someone who would like outdoor activities,” the duke admitted, pulling the band off his hair and then retying it.

“Oh. Why?”

Eldara grinned but the look in his eyes sharpened. He started putting his gloves back on. “Well, now this one here is a compromising question.”

“But really. Why?”

“You… At first glance you look like a pampered kid.”

“And you are an ass!”

Eldara gave him a sharp smile. “Well, now that we’ve got this out of our system, let me ask you another question. Are you any good at swordsmanship?”

The blond stared at the bush with bare twigs at the edge of the road they were passing by at a snail’s pace. “I am probably better than some,” he said modestly. He wondered if anyone could ever get the duke out of their system. It was probably possible only by slaughtering him. And, by gods, the man had just called him a pampered kid, he had called the duke an ass, and the man could still keep the conversation going like it was nothing. This suddenly made Wolfram think the duke was right; now, he did feel like an uncouth kid.

“What about you?” Wolfram asked in a few minutes, interested.

“I am probably worse than some,” the duke answered just as imprecisely as Wolfram.

The blond looked at his right hand which was puffed with a bandage under the glove. It was getting better fast but was still not good enough.

“We can have a spar once you’re better,” the duke suggested.

“We seem to be going to do a lot of things once I am better,” Wolfram commented, trying to bend his fingers and wincing in pain.

“Don’t overdo it. I’m just trying to find more ways to keep you here longer.”

“To keep me here for what?” 

A small smirk appeared on the duke’s face first then he laughed. “To carry out His Royal Will, of course.”

“Right. I forgot that bit about ‘ _His Will_ ’,” Wolfram muttered. Both of them knew it was only temporary, just an empty title to inflate Wolfram’s importance even more, to give him immunity. Wolfram knew that Eldara found it entertaining, and he couldn’t blame the man.

When the blond sighed, the duke gave him a sideways look. He wondered about von Bielefeld and his ex-fiancé’s relationship. The engagement had lasted for five years and, then, it was abruptly terminated, the blond leaving the capital. He could read a lot into the circumstances, but it wasn’t clear what had precisely happened. Then, in the baths, Wolfram had been bitter when he talked about the annulment of the engagement. It must have been his king’s decision to end it between them.

“Maybe Gwendal von Voltaire or His Majesty Yuuri Shibuya would visit you here?” the duke asked suddenly overtaken by curiosity about Shibuya and von Bielefeld’s relationship.

“They would be idiots if they did.”

“True,” Eldara agreed. However, he couldn’t help noticing that despite his confident answer, the blond didn’t look so assured. “You don’t seem to be so certain…” he drawled.

Wolfram shot him an uneasy look. The duke didn’t know what an idiot Yuuri could be. Wolfram knew, though. The king could decide that traveling incognito to Kardera was the best idea ever. And, then, if caught in a bout of _extreme_ stupidity, Yuuri could also decide he was going to intermingle amongst the suite. Maybe he would even come up with a heroic but unneeded rescue plan. Wolfram hoped that if this happened, either Gwendal or Conrart would be able to talk the king out of it. Nevertheless, sometimes Yuuri was unbendable. You just couldn’t convince him otherwise.

“His Majesty can be unpredictable,” Wolfram summarized his thoughts finally.

“Well, yes,” the duke said with a nod, “I’ve heard various things.”

“What things for example?”

“Most of them are about his unrivaled power.”

“Ah, yes.” Wolfram chuckled lightly. He knew what exactly Eldara had had in mind but had tactfully chosen to avoid pronouncing. Yuuri, indeed, had power; his wisdom, however, was another matter. “Very young, optimistic, and idealistic,” he said to Eldara. 

“That does somehow work out, though,” the duke said, smiling.

“Yes,” Wolfram agreed. “It never ceases to surprise me.”

“Well, it is said that Lady Luck loves optimistic people.”

“Is it?”

For a moment, they rode next to each other silently, and Wolfram suddenly felt that he hadn’t been relaxed like this in a while. It was clearly a dangerous and misleading feeling, as the duke was far from someone he could allow himself to lose his sharpness around. But there was something unwinding in the way Eldara could understand him from half a sentence.

“Is there any news about my signet ring?” Wolfram asked after a long pause.

“No, I’m afraid there isn’t any. One of the pirates admitted to having stolen the ring, but he had either sold or lost it as it wasn’t found on him.”

“ _Sold or lost_?” Wolfram asked, uncertain. 

“Well, he said he’d probably lost it while swimming towards the shore. I don’t think he was lying, but who knows?”

“I see. So it’s decaying somewhere on the bottom of the sea. Nice.” Frowning, Wolfram patted the horse on its neck. He was cold already. While Eldara had been exercising and getting warm, he had been just trotting monotonously on the spot. 

“Are all of them dead?” Wolfram asked.

“Yes.”

“Sharp Ronny?”

“All of them.”

“I’ll just have to order a new ring,” Wolfram concluded in a minute. He was starting to shiver, his feet getting frozen, but the horse was warming him up somewhat and he could already see the end of the road.

“Obviously.”

They had made a slow-paced circle around the park and now were at the same gate leading to the castle. The sky had darkened during their leisurely ride, and half of the gate was already closed; clearly not all servants had been informed about the duke’s presence in the park. Eldara stopped at the gate to let Wolfram pass first.

“If you would like, we can go down to the town next time,” the duke suggested when they were approaching the castle.

“Oh, I definitely want to have a tour around the town!” Wolfram agreed enthusiastically. If he already was in Raizgad, then it was only natural to make the most of his stay.

The servants were already waiting at the stairs for their master. Wolfram and Eldara climbed off their horses and started walking up the stairs. The duke noticed that the blond was shivering; he couldn’t discern in the half-light but even his lips seemed to be bluish. And, yet, he hadn’t complained during their ride.

Wolfram turned around when something baaed somewhere near him. It was the same white cat which had sprayed him on his way to the baths. Baaing, he ran up the stairs to the duke, who was about to open the door, then snuck through the gap once it was open. The large cat ran no farther, though, and when Wolfram and Eldara entered the lobby, he started rubbing around the duke’s feet.

“Missed me?” Eldara asked.

Wolfram, who was standing close to the duke, felt a strong whiff of sweat and horse when the man bent down to stroke the cat. It wasn’t unpleasant, rather familiar and comforting, but Wolfram would have never associated those smells with the duke. The blond took his gloves off, stuffed them into the pockets of his coat and rubbed his hands together to warm them up faster.

“Whose cat is it?” Wolfram asked.

“Mine, of course,” Eldara said, picking the purring animal up, still stroking. “All mine,” he chuckled, scratching the cat under his chin.

“Hmm… Well, you do seem like a cat person.”

“Do you prefer dogs?” Eldara asked, starting to walk down the corridor with the cat in his arms. 

Wolfram followed him. “I think I prefer neither. I like horses.”

“Oh, do you? I like horses as well.”

“Yes, I noticed that. Yours is pretty attached to you.”

“I don’t have much time for her, though. I leave all the grooming for the stablemen.”

“Pity that.”

“Yes,” Eldara agreed. Now they had entered his chambers, and he lowered the cat down so that he could jump off his hands. The large animal remained sitting on his hands, staring at the floor impassively, clearly not willing to give up his comfortable place. Despite his silent protest, the duke shook him off and started unbuttoning his coat. Wolfram followed his example.

“I haven’t seen him around,” Wolfram said, watching the cat walk to the closed door and baa. “Actually, only once.”

“He either stays in my chambers or the study,” the duke said, opening the door and letting the cat out. “Well, I’ll go to the baths,” he said after walking over to the sofa in the middle of the room and sitting down to take his boots off. “I stink of sweat and horse.” 

He glanced at Wolfram, who was now looking around, wondering where he could put his coat. Von Bielefeld had followed him into his chambers automatically, and Eldara had somehow naturally accepted that. The naturalness was going to end when the blond would suddenly decide he wanted to follow him to the baths. The prospect of himself and Wolfram soaking together in a pool was uncanny.

“Put it over that chair,” Eldara pointed. Only now did he remember that Athara hated the smell of horses. He had better tell the servants to wash the clothing Wolfram was wearing. The duke could see that, when he told von Bielefeld where to put his coat, the blond also felt the awkwardness of the situation. The younger man appeared to be somewhat lost. In a second, he lifted his coat off the chair and startled walking towards the door.

“Thank you for inviting me for a ride,” he said. “It was a pleasure.”

Eldara nodded. “Oh, the pleasure was all mine.”

\---

Wolfram could hardly remember when last time he had slept so well. The fresh air and some exercise did wonders and no sooner had his head hit the pillow than he was asleep. He woke up late in the morning, rested, his mind feeling clear and sharp.

As some of the earlier clothing he had picked had been given to the servants to wash, Wolfram ransacked in the wardrobe for something else to wear. Now, he had to settle for the difficult option of picking from clothes he didn’t want to wear earlier. It took him quite some time to decide but, finally, he chose a white shirt with puffed sleeves and a gray jacket which was almost up to his knees. The bottom part of the jacket was heavy with wavy frills and, when Wolfram put the jacket on, he decided that he looked as if he was wearing a dress.

The gray knee-breeches with white stockings he had donned on made him cringe. It looked better when he pulled black boots on. He took another look at himself in the mirror and decided against a cravat; there was already enough frills on him to last him a lifetime. Wolfram spent three more minutes looking at himself and wondering if he had donned everything properly. He missed his blue military uniform. It wasn’t anywhere near being extravagant or stylish, but he knew it looked good on him and it was easy to wear – it wasn’t possible to make mistakes while putting it on.

On his way to the dining-room, he was relieved when he could hear no snickers behind his back while he was walking down the corridors, and he made a conclusion that he looked passable.

“Good morning,” Wolfram readily greeted the duke when he saw the man leaving his chambers.

The duke cast his eyes over his brother’s attire on Wolfram. Then, he looked at the blond’s face gloomily. “Good morning,” he muttered darkly, shutting the door behind himself. Without waiting for Wolfram to catch up with him, he made his way down the corridor, leaving the blond to stare at his back in bafflement. Was it something he had done yesterday? Wolfram had been of opinion that both of them had rather enjoyed their little outing in the park. Maybe he had been mistaken.

When Wolfram entered the dining-room, Halea and Athara were already present, sitting at the table, engaged in a conversation about the approaching annual festival. Greeting the siblings, the blond walked over to his usual place, which was opposite Halea, and took the seat. The duke wasn’t in the dining-room.

“Did something happen?” Wolfram asked, as Athara gave the sign for the servants to start bringing in hot dishes without waiting for his brother to arrive. 

“Do you mean my brother’s absence?” Athara asked. “He has received a summon letter from His Majesty Orinth the Fifth. He should be leaving for the capital about now.”

Wolfram’s breath hitched and he was just in time to steady his hand before he could spill the glass of juice. “My presence in Raizgad has just reached a new stage, hasn’t it?” he said, chuckling uneasily. He lowered the glass back to the table, his appetite suddenly gone. 

“Yes, that of an intercontinental conflict,” Athara said with a scowl on his face. He motioned for the servant to bring the steamy puffed pancakes closer. “The jacket, if I may say so, suits you much better than it did me.”

“Thank you,” Wolfram said, overwhelmed by awkwardness. He couldn’t blame Athara for thinking of him as a nuisance. He had also become painfully conscious that, with the duke gone, it was Athara now who took over the authority in the house. He didn’t believe, though, that Athara would dare to do anything against his brother’s orders. He had become aware at once that, just like Gwendal’s in Blood Pledge Castle, Eldara’s word was final in the von Ashira household. Athara may bark, but he was not allowed to bite. Hopefully.

“Eldara seemed to be in a dark mood when I saw him,” Wolfram said. He nodded to thank the servant who put a pancake in his plate. “I thought it was something I did yesterday.”

“Oh, no,” Halea denied shaking her head, “I’m certain it isn’t your fault. He’s always edgy before meeting the king.”

“Is he?” Wolfram wondered nonchalantly, putting on a spoonful of cream on his pancake. “But he always seems to be so confident in himself. What’s there to worry about?”

Wolfram’s attempts to fish around for personal information about the duke ended abruptly with Halea and Athara exchanging a knowing look. 

“Try the pancakes, Wolfram,” Athara said. “They are so good that they will make you swallow your tongue.”

Meanwhile Halea gave the blond a smile filled with a polite apology but chose not to comment on the bite in her brother’s words; she must have thought von Bielefeld had deserved that. Wolfram reached for his glass and took a sip of the apple juice; he had underestimated the woman.

Silently, Wolfram ate his pancakes. They were really good. He had no doubts that Orinth the Fifth would have wanted him and the duke to visit him together. However, he had obviously been warned that von Bielefeld’s health did not allow him long journeys. He wondered if, in the long run, it would turn out to be a good or a bad thing.

\---

Three eventless days passed, and Wolfram noticed that the count of the guards in the halls had considerably increased. The duke was still away, and Athara, as ordered, was getting ready for the arrival of von Bielefeld’s suite, since the forecasts announced longer breaks between the storms. It was impossible to tell the exact hour or even day, but the suite was going to disembark soon. Despite the fact that such an extreme increase in security made Wolfram uncomfortable, he could not wait for his men to arrive. He was bored out of his mind. Only after the duke had left, had he started to fully appreciate his and Eldara’s conversations: at least he had something to look forward to or fret about. 

With the duke gone, and his lethargy spells becoming rarer and rarer, Wolfram’s entertainment consisted only of eating meals (which were getting stranger and more intricate in both flavor and presentation), listening to the dreamy harpist, taking walks in the park together with Halea or reading alone. The conversations with Halea still left him frustrated with his inability to keep her engaged. The problem with reading was that all Halea was able to find for him were textbooks which she and her brothers had used to learn standard Shin Makoku language. This way, he was subjected to reading excerpts of texts which were either boring or had left him maddeningly curious about their beginning or ending.

Tbc


	11. Part 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Kyou Kara Maou! – It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I’m not making any money from writing it.  
> Warnings: yaoi (male x male), violence, swearing, angst, drama. Wolfram-centric, out of character, original character.  
> Summary: With Yuuri’s upcoming birthday, Wolfram makes his decision. Where will it lead him and what is to become of them? Should eventually be Yuuri x Wolfram.  
> A/N 1: Yuuri – 18 years old. Wolfram – 20. Eldara – 31. Halea – 20. Athara – 18.  
> A/N 2: Greta doesn’t exist.  
> A/N 3: European/American/Japanese standards all at once depending on the plot requirements.  
> A/N 4: A tendency to ignore the anime/manga and supplement the story with my own imagined facts.   
> A/N 5: Season III is not taken into consideration, except for the fact that Wolfram’s uncle exists.  
> A/N 6: The umlaut in Gunter’s name is a bother.

**Bloom**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by HARPG0

Part 11

In the end, it was Halea, not the duke, who had taken Wolfram down to the town. It was to see the festival thrown annually at the end of the fall in order to thank Aurun, the Goddess’s of Plenty. Wolfram was glad about any diversion from life saturated with boredom even if that meant he had to be subjected to about an hour’s or more turtle-pace down the hill, through a small grove, and then all the way through the town to the festival square.

It was only Halea and Wolfram going down the steep hill (Halea in a carriage, while Wolfram decided that it was safer for him to ride a horse) as Athara was absent. Wolfram noticed that, despite the fact that the youngest von Ashira had been left in charge of the house, he was away quite frequently. When Wolfram had tried to ask his sister about that, she seemed to be uncomfortable and quickly changed the subject.

At first, the blond planned to just ride next to Halea’s carriage. But, as soon as they had started going down the hill, he realized that there was no way he could keep up without receiving a grave and long-term headache. Resigned, he slowed his horse down. The interpreter fell back into his pace as well, and Wolfram saw the captain of the five guards team leave the side of the carriage. The man rode up to him, was told what had happened and, then, after a few seconds of thought, he sent the interpreter uphill for more guards. That was done with a clipped explanation and a nod for Wolfram. The rather impolite abruptness with which the man had just taken over the interpreter from his disposal irritated the blond.

“He back fast,” the captain said seeing the unconcealed look of discontentment on Wolfram’s face.

Certainly, the blond agreed that the captain had made the most sensible decision under the circumstances, but it wasn’t about that. 

“I ride with you until he backs,” the captain said.

Wolfram thought that maybe the man mistook his dissatisfaction for the acute concern for his safety, but a more careful look at the captain’s face told him that the man knew exactly what it was about, knew and just didn’t give a fig. He had done what he had to do. And, if some arrogant top from Shin Makoku had problems with that, he had better suck it up.

Scowling, Wolfram lowered his eyes to stare at his horse’s hypnotically swinging head. Gwendal often told him that he was self-centered. Of course, he was self-centered. He was perfectly aware of that. He was also aware that Gwendal was no less self-centered than he was. Wasn’t that the inborn right of the nobility, after all? What would become of them if the servants started pushing them around? He was both wrong and right. Wolfram knew that as well. The responsibility that came with power would easily crush a lesser man. Self-centeredness, though, had to have its limits because it could – in a different way - crush a person as well.

When their party was already downhill, riding the streets, Wolfram became aware that one look at the dragon on the door of the carriage made everyone pull out of its way hastily. People would scatter aside to let them pass. Carts and carriages would turn aside as well. Two more guards approached the party, but Wolfram hardly noticed the captain leave his side, and the guards and the interpreter joined him as he was more interested in the curiously ornamented houses he was passing on the street.

While they were moving towards the packed square, despite the very cooperative masses, it soon became impossible for the carriage and the guards to pass and the party opted out to walk on foot. It didn’t seem that the guards were worried, and Wolfram guessed that this was a common every year occurrence as well.

What was surprising was that as soon Halea left the carriage, she was greeted with warm smiles and respectful bows from people flowing down the street. After having seen the reaction to the carriage, Wolfram definitely hadn’t expected this.

“It seems the members of von Ashira family are very much loved,” Wolfram told the interpreter, after both of them had climbed down their horses. 

The man looked uncomfortable for a moment and then smiled sheepishly, choosing not to comment on his words.

Right. Wolfram couldn’t imagine the duke (or even Athara) getting the same warm treatment and then smiling back and waving his hands to greet and indulge his people like his sister was doing right now. The thought alone made Wolfram snicker. He thought that the earlier reaction to the carriage was more to the truth – the curtains had been drawn nearly all the way and it had been impossible to tell who was riding it – it could have been the duke himself.

The party entered the square and Wolfram’s eyes (and nose) were drawn to rows and rows of food stalls on both sides. Vegetables, fruits, their preserves, various kinds of pies and breads, smoked or roasted fish and meat lined the counters. There were also carvings and fretworks of various statues, most of which Wolfram guessed to be gods and deities. Wooden spoons, ladles, mugs, toys, and jewelry boxes were laid out to show everyone the master’s ingeniousness and skill and/or to bring some income. Many stalls were laden with knitted clothing, laces, and covers. Buckets, baskets, shovels, pitchforks, rakes, and everything else which came in handy in an everyday farmer’s life was possible to find here.

There were also many young amateurs displaying their goods. Some of their wares were poor in quality but, at some of their stalls, there were crowds of interested people as youngsters would sometimes come up with new and interesting ideas. Masters would also leave their stalls to walk over to take a look at their goods, praise, and give a suggestion or two. 

There were so many people streaming on both sides that it was hard to pass each other, and the guards around Wolfram and Halea made it even more difficult. Clearly, the festival and fair had also attracted people from surrounding villages and cities. Halea was flitting from one stall to another, oohing and aahing. She never bargained and was quick to draw her purse. Thus, the guards soon were carrying handfuls of bags with her purchases. It seemed that, no matter the country, women had the same inclination for buying.

Halea had lent Wolfram some money in case he wanted to buy something, and, if his interpreter’s wide eyes were any indication, it was a handsome sum. The patterns and designs of wares were different to what he was used to seeing in Shin Makoku, and he examined them with interest. However, the blond hadn’t found anything yet he would want to buy. He lingered more at the stall lined with knifes and daggers. And, then, he went to see the variety of horses at the end of the square. However, to buy a weapon and bring it into von Ashira household would probably count as an insult, and he didn’t need a horse as he was provided with one; he had just been curious.

After noticing that Halea was bored to death by weapons and horses, tactfully, Wolfram followed her back into the world of laces and clothing. He had been surprised, though, when, just before leaving the stall with horses, she bought a mare. She had consulted with the captain, who had chosen the horse himself. As far as Wolfram could tell, it was a good horse – strong and seemingly tough. The thing was that the breed was quite short in height but wide in size. Its appearance could not compare to those of the stallions’ von Ashira family owned. It was a good working horse, but Wolfram couldn’t figure out why Halea would want to buy one. Maybe she would want to use the mare for riding as it was obvious that her wide back would be comfortable for riding.

“Lady von Ashira!”

Halea, Wolfram, and the rest of their party turned to see two women approaching. The guards let them pass and, soon, the three women were exchanging hugs. Both of them were older than Halea but wore equally expensive clothing and were followed by a couple of guards. Wolfram didn’t understand what they were saying but, from the way they were treating Halea, it was obvious that their social standing was lower than Halea’s. They were either some wives or daughters of nobility or successful merchants.

“This is Wolfram von Bielefeld from Shin Makoku.” Halea introduced him to the women in Shin Makoku standard language.

Both women exchanged looks and curtsied, smiling curiously. Wolfram thought that it was the first time they had heard von Bielefeld’s name; they didn’t seem to be impressed. Somehow, he was disappointed.

“These are my friends. Lady Farera Anotan,” Halea nodded at the taller woman. “And Lady Gertrud Koriman.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Wolfram said, bowing. He had a secret hope that the women would decide to go on without him. Instead, Halea’s friends and their guards joined their party. He was subjected to more laces and clothing.

“How long is Sir going to stay in Raizgad?” Lady Anotan asked Wolfram. She flustered when Halea said something to her. She bowed apologetically. “I’m sorry, I mean, ‘Your Highness’.”

Wolfram shrugged it off with an encouraging smile. “Probably a few more weeks.”

Both Lady Anotan and Lady Koriman gave Halea interested looks, and Wolfram groaned mentally, imagining what kinds of things they were thinking. They were probably about to ask when their wedding was going to take place. Luckily, the gong which suddenly echoed throughout the entire square saved Wolfram from more questions and presumptions. Startled, he looked around.

It seemed there had been no place for people where to move, but a narrow path had formed in the middle of the square. Wolfram gave Halea a questioning look, but she just shook her head smiling, and motioned for him to watch.

A woman, holding an armful of untreshed rye and wearing wide red clothing, started walking from the end of the square. Two young girls in white were following her. One was carrying a sickle, the other, a flail. The woman with the rye was singing. Wolfram couldn’t understand the words of the song, but he liked the melody. She was, obviously, a priestess. He could already see the destination of the procession – a white temple amidst wooden village houses. 

The crowd behind the priestess was closing, most of the people starting to follow her and the girls down the square into the temple. Wolfram was surprised when Halea and the rest of the party also followed the priestess. All that was left to him was to trail after them.

Inside, the temple seemed smaller than it appeared on the outside. It was made of some kind of white stone. There weren’t many decorations with the exception of the stained glass in the windows and the elaborate altar at the end of the temple. Rows of benches lined its sides, and Halea led the party to the front rows, where they sat down.

Wolfram thought that it was colder inside than outside. The thick walls protected from winds but the stones radiated chilliness. It was usual in stone buildings. Wolfram could remember hours upon hours he had spent in Shin Makoku’s temples.

The priestess had reached the altar where she placed the rye. The girls laid the sickle and the flail on the altar as well. The priestess moved behind the altar and the girls stood at her sides.

“Today we came here to express our gratitude to Aurun for her gifts,” the priestess said, her clear resounding voice echoing in the temple. “Her generosity this year is astounding. Let’s take a few minutes to properly thank her.”

Wolfram watched everyone in the temple lower their heads and close their eyes. For a minute or more, the building sank into silence.

“Aurun was very generous this year,” the priestess’s voice rose again. “I invite you to show her respect and share her gifts with others who are in need of them.”

Wolfram watched people swoop forward and leave offerings all around the altar. Food, coins, clothing, everything went. With fascinated horror, he watched the captain of the guards’ team walk the horse towards the altar and tie her to one of the columns. Two guards carried the bags with Halea’s purchases towards the altar as well. Halea’s lady friends also gave their offerings.

“Is it for charity or will the horse be cut open on that altar in order to please the goddess?” Wolfram asked Halea.

Halea laughed softly. “Every year, during the festival, the city people donate to those in need.”

“How do you decide who is in most need?”

“It’s usually up to me to distribute the goods. I visit the families, talk to the neighbors, and so on. By now I know almost everyone in town,” Halea explained after Wolfram gave her a surprised look. “Eldara used to do it as it is usually the responsibility of the duke or his wife. His methods, though…” she fell silent for a moment. “Well, he said he didn’t want to be responsible for the feuds among the people and, in the end, we decided that I was more suitable for the job.”

Wolfram wondered what exactly had happened for the duke to pass the duty on to his sister. However, after spending quite some time in Eldara’s presence, he got the hunch that maybe the duke had been using the “ _give a man some fish and he will be fed for a day, give him a rod and he will be fed for a lifetime_ ” principle. Not everyone could understand and approve of that.

“You are probably the most generous donator as well,” Wolfram remarked. It was no wonder the people of the town liked her – she was a savior of sorts.

“I am supposed to show the example,” Halea said.

Wolfram nodded. “You could have told me what this festival was about. I would have bought something as well.”

“Well, you still have the money,” Halea noted with an amused smile on her lips. She gently held Wolfram down by his arm when he wanted to go to the altar. “It’s better, though, to give things instead of money; some people are bad with it.” With her head, she motioned at the door. “It is not too late yet to buy something.”

It was a sensible suggestion, and Wolfram nodded. “I’ll be quick and…”

“Oh, let’s all go together, Sir,” Lady Koriman insisted, smiling brightly. “I’m certain Halea knows best what to choose.”

Wolfram gave Halea a questioning look. “But aren’t you needed here?”

She shook her head. “No, not yet. Everyone will be bringing goods until the evening. I’ll return when it starts darkening.”

In the end, Wolfram bought twelve loaves of bread, five large pieces of ham, three sacks of potatoes, a sack of flour, a basket of cabbage, and four piglets. When they returned to the temple, it had been turned into a neighing, cock-a-doodle-doing, clucking, and oinking barn.

Halea busied herself till midnight: she and the priestess with her girls counted the donations and then discussed the families that were in needed of them. A few men volunteered to lend their carts for delivering heavier goods to the people, and Halea gladly accepted the help. She also sent out two of her guards to distribute. Halea’s friends stayed with her until she was done. Then, everyone dispersed for the night.

Wolfram hadn’t imagined he would stay in the town for such a long time. The repeated circuits amongst the counters filled with varicolored goods and never ceasing noise had given him a headache. Even before returning to the temple for the second time, he had been aware that he had already used up the limit of excitement the doctor had told him about. What he would have liked best was a bed. However, he could not think himself abandoning Halea in the middle of her noble mission. He guessed that Athara had not come in order to avoid the exhausting ordeal. This presumption made Wolfram feel both gracious to Halea and superior to her brother.

By midnight, Wolfram started wincing at every loud sound or harsh movement. The prospect of riding all the way back up to the castle was giving him the shivers. Despite that, when he was on the horse, riding through the sleeping village, he considered the day to be well-spent. Again, he was trailing behind the carriage, only the lamp hanging off the back of the carriage visible.

Wolfram was almost asleep when he heard a suspicious noise ahead. He raised his head to look at a grove in front of him. He couldn’t make out anything amongst the bare trees but the shouts the sound of metal clashing repeated again, and he urged his horse forward. He had to stop quickly as his two bodyguards barred his way. He could see that the guards wanted nothing more than to go and see what happened but they had a duty to protect him.

Wolfram looked back at the scared interpreter. He wondered if ordering the men to stand down would give any results. Probably not – they obeyed von Ashira orders, which stated that they had to keep him out of danger.

“Sir, they want you to head back to the village,” the interpreter said after one of the guards barked something out.

“Well, sure they do,” Wolfram muttered. He turned his horse around and started riding in the direction of the village. At first, it didn’t seem that the soldiers were buying his obedient retreat but, then, they started following him. When they had nearly caught up with Wolfram, he turned around suddenly, slipped past them, and galloped towards the grove. They were a hundred years too early to catch a rider like him, even if his head was pounding like mad.

_It had better not be a wheel slipped off its axis_ , Wolfram thought hazily, shooting into the grove. The duke would not let him live that one down. 

Wolfram’s vision was much better than that of Humans but, even then, he had no time to stop his horse, which had galloped onto a body on the ground. All could he do was brace himself for the fall. It wasn’t that bad, though, as he had expected it – the horse tripped and fell onto its side. He flew out of the saddle but he was nearly on the ground by that time, so he rolled over, somehow managed to avoid a tree, and, finally, flopped onto his backside. Ungraceful, but nearly painless, with the exception of his pounding head.

He staggered onto his feet. Now he could clearly hear the shouts for help. He ran forward to the lamp he could see amidst the tress. With the sight of the carriage, his vision was filled with two bodyguards fighting off six men. The coachman was very likely dead, hanging off the seat in a very curious manner. One of the attackers had thrown the carriage door open and was climbing inside. It was obvious that it wasn’t easy to do, though – it seemed that there was a hurricane raging within the carriage, blowing at him, keeping him away. Wolfram could hear Halea screaming inside.

Before Wolfram could think of anything, he instinctively summoned his fire element and sent it towards the fighting men. He was hardly aware that his guards had already caught up with him and had whooshed past him to help fight off the enemy. By the time they had reached the carriage, though, there was no one left to fight off. A huge flaming lion had knocked one of the attackers down along with the entire horse and bit his head off. Its enormous claws slashed another one on the back, throwing him aside like a ragdoll. The third man met his fate with his leg in the lion’s jaws and a sword through his chest. The one who had been climbing into the carriage was speared through by the captain’s sword. The last attacker had tried to run but the lion had caught up. His screams echoed in the grove for a few seconds then died off abruptly. All of this happened in a span of mere eight seconds.

Exhausted, Wolfram leaned against a tree. He could see his lion trotting back towards him, ignoring the guards. It was a huge animal, with its fur flaming brightly, a long mane, and powerful limbs. The danger had passed, and the lion was relaxed like its master. It was the first time Wolfram had summoned such a strong specimen, and he was staring at it in awe.

“Sir?”

Wolfram turned his head to look at the captain. He guessed he didn’t look that good as the man’s face showed concern.

“Sir, alright you?”

Holding onto the tree, Wolfram got to his feet. The captain was just in time to catch the blond when he fell backwards, unconscious. The lion burst into tiny specks of fire and disappeared.

\---

Wolfram woke up to soft voices discussing something. When he opened his eyes, he found himself in his usual room in the von Ashira castle. He was in bed, warm and comfortable. He recognized the duke’s voice and turned his head to look at the door. Eldara was talking to the doctor. Wolfram couldn’t understand what they were saying but they were probably discussing him.

The duke saw the emerald-green eyes looking at him. He stopped talking and touched the doctor on his shoulder, motioning with his head at the blond in the bed.

“Good morning, Wolfram,” Eldara greeted.

Wolfram nodded. “Good…” he yawned loudly. “Sorry. Good morning.” One more look at the duke’s face made him wonder. The man seemed to be very concerned about something. 

Oh, right, the attack.

“Is Halea alright?”

The duke inclined his head towards the blond. “Yes, she’s perfectly alright. You have my utmost gratitude.”

Wolfram smiled. “Then, I suppose, I have evened the score out.”

Eldara watched him for a few seconds then chuckled lightly. “Yes, you could say so. It seems you have a knack for saving damsels in distress. I didn’t know we have been keeping the score, though,” the duke added, with a tingle in his voice and eyes, and Wolfram couldn’t tell if it was amusement, a warning, or something else. 

“How are you feeling?” the doctor asked Wolfram, walking over to the bed.

Tentatively, Wolfram moved his arms and legs. “I think I’m fine,” he said. The blond was aware that the doctor had rudely interrupted right at the moment when he thought that the conversation was getting heavier. It had been, but it had also been getting more interesting and he didn’t mind that. 

Wolfram sat up. He found that his upper clothes were gone and what was left were only a shirt and underwear.

“Alright, I will leave you for the examination,” the duke said to Wolfram. “Tell me when you’re done,” he addressed the doctor.

“Of course, Your Grace.”

When the duke left the room, Wolfram motioned at the door with his head. “When did he come back?” he asked the doctor.

“Yesterday in the evening, Sir.”

“So, I slept through the night…” Wolfram muttered.

“No, Sir. You have slept through the night and one more day. We were very worried.”

Wolfram stared at the doctor for a few seconds. “Oh.” The look on the man’s face was genuine and Wolfram could see that they, indeed, had been. “But I feel fine now,” he said, not certain if he was just stating the fact or encouraging the doctor.

“Well, Sir has been warned against exhausting activities. Summoning elements is one of those as well.”

Wolfram wondered if he should offer a snappy comment but then decided that the doctor was just talking for the sake of talking. He had done his duty – had warned him – and it was up to Wolfram what he chose to do with that warning.

“So, as I feel well, can I just get up and go?”

“Yes, Sir. As soon as the examination is over.”

Resigned, Wolfram sagged back into the bedding. He badly wanted to go to the bathroom. “Any news about my suite’s arrival?” he asked when the doctor was holding his head between his hands and turning it this and that way.

“I think I heard that they had finally embarked the ship. His Grace certainly knows more about it.”

Wolfram’s face brightened; he was looking forward to seeing his people. He also, more or less, knew who Gwendal would have chosen to send to Raizgad.

“Alright, I’m done here, Sir. It doesn’t seem that there is something wrong. It was probably just fatigue. But be careful not to overstrain yourself.”

“Yes, I will make certain not to.”

“His Grace will want to talk to Sir,” the doctor said, taking off his stethoscope. “His Grace seems to…” he trailed off. “Well, he has some news from the king.” He gave Wolfram an encouraging look. “It seems it is good news.”

Tbc


	12. Part 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Kyou Kara Maou! – It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I’m not making any money from writing it.  
> Warnings: yaoi (male x male), violence, swearing, angst, drama. Wolfram-centric, out of character, original character.  
> Summary: With Yuuri’s upcoming birthday, Wolfram makes his decision. Where will it lead him and what is to become of them? Should eventually be Yuuri x Wolfram.  
> A/N 1: Yuuri – 18 years old. Wolfram – 20. Eldara – 31. Halea – 20. Athara – 18.  
> A/N 2: Greta doesn’t exist.  
> A/N 3: European/American/Japanese standards all at once depending on the plot requirements.  
> A/N 4: A tendency to ignore the anime/manga and supplement the story with my own imagined facts.   
> A/N 5: Season III is not taken into consideration, except for the fact that Wolfram’s uncle exists.  
> A/N 6: The umlaut in Gunter’s name is a bother.

**Bloom**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by HARPG0

Part 12

“Your suite is arriving in two days,” Eldara informed Wolfram.

They were sitting in the duke’s office, Eldara at his desk. Wolfram was in a chair in front of it. After the doctor’s examination, the blond had dressed, visited the bathroom, and then had a light snack. 

“Finally,” Wolfram said. “Took them long enough.”

Eldara gave him a benevolent smile which cut through Wolfram like a sword through butter. “You must be worried about your security. Rest at ease. From what I have heard, I can tell that you alone could defeat all of Raizgad’s army. The ardor, the splendor with which you charged at the enemy! My soldiers are in stupefied awe!”

“So you’d better I had left Halea to…” Wolfram wondered what the attackers had intended to do. “To be kidnapped?”

“Of course not,” Eldara said smoothly. “Your act is a perfect example of bravery and heroism. In fact, I’ve already sent a letter to His Highness Gwendal von Voltaire where I described your altruistic deed and stressed how proud he should be to have a brother like you.”

Wolfram inhaled sharply. “You didn’t!”

The duke chuckled. “Would you like me to send one?”

The blond glared at him. “No.” If Gwendal ever got wind of his temerity, he would come to Raizgad to personally collect him concussion or no concussion. It was obvious that the duke was perfectly aware of what influence Gwendal had on his life. On the other hand, it wasn’t difficult for him to figure out as he and his siblings shared a very similar relationship.

“Anyway,” Eldara said, getting serious. “About my visit to His Majesty Orinth the Fifth. To put it short, the King of Kardera welcomes Emissary Wolfram von Bielefeld and wishes him and his suite a pleasant stay in his country.”

“Oh, does he?”

“Yes, he does.”

“That’s nice.”

The sarcastic intonation made the duke give the blond a glance. “Well, Gwendal von Voltaire is a power to be reckoned with.”

“Do you even take Yuuri Shibuya seriously?”

The sudden question made Eldara laugh softly. “Yes, sometimes I do. But most of the time I don’t,” he admitted, grinning. “You will have to forgive me for saying this about your former fiancé but, with a few exceptions, he’s practically apolitical.”

The unexpectedly honest reply made Wolfram chuckle. It was surprising to hear the duke answer so directly, and, to show his appreciation, Wolfram inclined his head. He didn’t even feel guilty for not trying to defend his king’s honor. Everything Eldara had said was true: Gwendal von Voltaire was the head of Shin Makoku, and Yuuri was its…weapon? This sounded strange, keeping in mind that Yuuri was a pacifist to his core. For a moment, Wolfram pondered on the contradictory thought. Then, he shook it off.

Shuffling the papers on his desk absentmindedly, the duke watched Wolfram for a few seconds. “I don’t think I can express in words what Halea means to me,” he said softly, putting his elbows on the desk and lacing his fingers together. “I am forever in your debt.”

Startled, Wolfram leaned back into his chair. He smiled awkwardly. “Well, as said, I just evened the score out.” Uncomfortable, he squirmed as the duke gave him a long searching look. 

“Right,” Eldara said tapping his fingers on the desk, the spell breaking. “You just made me think that you’re just about as apolitical as your king.”

“Well, I’m sorry I didn’t request you to give up your county to me in reward.”

Eldara’s eyebrows rose. “You’re not too late to do that yet,” he said, grinning. “I’m afraid, I’ll refuse to give it up, though. It won’t do to have such an apolitical leader as you.”

Wolfram rolled his eyes. “Nobody said I’d be the one ruling it.”

The duke nodded. “Oh, if it’s Gwendal von Voltaire, then I promise to think about it.”

The blond gave a tortured sigh. “You like my brother a lot, don’t you?”

“Not really. I simply noticed that the very mention of his name makes you sit straighter. But never mind that. If you really feel alright, I would like to keep my promise and show you around the town,” the duke suggested. “Well, certainly, you did that with Halea, but nonetheless. Are you interested?”

“Of course I am,” Wolfram said, his posture on the chair changing, his whole body leaning forward enthusiastically. “When are we going?”

“It never ceases to amaze me, your eagerness for outings.”

“Mmm…” Wolfram drawled, suspicious. “In which way does it amaze you?”

“In a good way, Wolfram, in a good way. I think we should leave shortly after lunch.”

“I’m all for it.”

\---

As soon as Wolfram entered the dining room, Halea ran up to him and grabbed him into a hug. “Oh, Wolfram, thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” she repeated squeezing him.

Startled, Wolfram made a few steps backwards but then stopped as he realized that he was dragging Halea with him. If he retreated any farther, both of them would simply stumble on the fluffy carpet and fall. 

“I was so scared!” Halea cried, kissing him on both cheeks. “I thought it was over!”

Wolfram patted the animated woman on her back soothingly. Over Halea’s shoulder he could see the duke watching them. He was smiling and there was something approving in his eyes, and, suddenly, Wolfram thought that maybe, contrarily to what he had believed, Eldara didn’t exactly mind him being close to his sister. The suspicion unnerved Wolfram and made him painfully aware of how intimately his and Halea’s bodies were touching.

“You’re my hero now,” Halea said, laughing. She released the blond from her embrace to look at his face and, Wolfram answered her with an awkward laugh. He gave her hand a few light pats. Then, still feeling out of place, he hurried over to his usual seat for comfort.

When Athara entered the dining-room, and the younger male’s eyes set on Wolfram, the blond immediately became aware that something had changed. There was not a trace of former hostility on Athara’s face: the man smiled brightly and rushed towards him.

“We can never thank you enough for what you’ve done!”

It was obvious that he wanted to either grab Wolfram’s hands or pull him into a hug. Thus, Wolfram kept nodding at him and smiling generously, but remained firmly seated to avoid any contact. He had never liked touchy-feely people, and, for some reason, the thought about Athara touching him was very disquieting. The whole ordeal was making him wish he had skipped lunch. 

“There is no need be so shy,” Athara commented, amused as Wolfram just kept smiling at him. “You’re an official hero now.”

Wolfram didn’t know what to answer to that, and then thought that it was probably good that he didn’t as he noticed something suspicious flit over Athara. It was short, but it was unmistakably there.

The blond also caught the duke watching him and his brother with something akin to disappointment on his face, and his lips were pressed into a stern line. The expression disturbed Wolfram and even more so as he couldn’t figure out why it was there. He couldn’t wait to get out of the dining room.

When hot dishes were brought in, Wolfram gave them a critical eye. This time, it was something black and seemingly squishy. It smelled strange as well, not unpleasant but strange. He waited for a servant to lay a plate in front of him.

“Athara, what happened to the food?” the duke asked after having watched Wolfram stare at his plate, then take a tentative bite, after which his eyes widened. The blond then continue to move the contents of the plate from one site to another without eating anything.

“What do you mean?”

Eldara gave his brother a warning look. “During my stay in Shin Makoku, I thought that the food there was god-awful. I think I did ask you not to torture Wolfram with ours?”

“Err…” Wolfram drawled, concerned when the tension at the table grew suddenly. “It’s fine. I’ll just take something else,” he said hurriedly. But after a glance at the table he realized that there was nothing he would want to try. “That…mm…goulash looks quite attractive.”

“That’s tomato sauce,” the duke said.

“Oh.” Wolfram deflated, his cheeks reddening.

“Would you prefer some pancakes, scrambled eggs or maybe both?” Eldara asked him.

“Mm…scrambled eggs, please.”

The duke nodded, and a servant was immediately sent to the kitchen to fulfill Wolfram’s wishes.

After the scrambled eggs had reached the table, and Wolfram tore into them with ravenous appetite, the lunch continued smoothly with the four of them chatting about the festival and Eldara’s journey to the capital. Wolfram noticed that after his brother’s reprimand, Athara was more subdued than usual. He tried not to show that it had affected him, but it was obvious. Wolfram thought that maybe inviting him to go to the town with him and Eldara would improve his mood. However, it had been the duke who had invited Wolfram and the blond wasn’t certain if he should interfere. In the end, Athara was first to leave the dining-room, and Wolfram lost the chance to speak up.

\---

Wolfram looked at the sky and wrapped himself tighter into his warm cloak. It had started snowing. The tiny snowflakes whirled lazily in the air, almost floating in the absence of wind. They were thinly spread and sparse and melted as soon as they touched the ground.

They had already ridden down the hill and reached the same grove where Halea had been attacked. There were twice as many guards today than at the time when Wolfram had been with Halea, and he felt absolutely secure. However, the large amount of men around them made it hard for Wolfram and Eldara to strike up a conversation. When they entered the grove, it dried up entirely. It didn’t feel uncomfortable, though. They simply rode next to each other silently, the sounds of metal jingling, horses snorting, and hooves hitting the ground echoing around.

Wolfram was brought back to the first time when he had examined a row of huge and detailed portraits in the castle, hanging on a wall just when one climbed the stairs to the second floor. There were nine von Ashiras, Eldara’s full-body portrait hanging last. Out of sheer curiosity, Wolfram had compared his and his father’s, Ernest von Ashira’s, portrait. Eldara was nearly his father’s copy: facial features, build, and even the intense aura, everything was shared. If Eldara cut his hair short, it would be hard to tell them apart. Nonetheless, Eldara must have inherited his strikingly blue eyes from his mother. His father’s, just like Halea’s and Athara’s, were hazel.

When Wolfram had unwittingly followed the duke to his chambers after their ride in the park, he had accidentally seen the portrait of the whole von Ashira family in Eldara’s room. Ernest and Eldara von Ashiras were standing side to side, behind a couch on which Halea, still a little girl, and her mother were sitting. Athara was no older than two or three years and was sitting on her knees. When it came to that, Wolfram didn’t even know her name. He knew now, though, from whom Athara had inherited his blue hair. The woman had long, blue, cascading hair of exceptional beauty.

“I don’t want to appear to be rude,” Wolfram said suddenly, “but what actually happened to your parents?”

The duke gave him a surprised look at the impulsive question. He turned his horse so that it would step closer to Wolfram’s. 

“Why are you interested?”

“Hmm… I’m just curious, I suppose.”

Eldara chuckled. “Fair enough.”

The duke indeed was much more knowledgeable about Wolfram’s affairs than he was about the duke’s. Nevertheless, the blond was inclined to think that after having spent quite some time with the man, he got to know many things about him as well. For one, he knew that if there was anything sacred for Eldara, it was his family.

“My mother died of pneumonia,” Eldara said. “Ernest von Ashira was killed in Derington Battle.”

Wolfram’s face showed surprise and the duke nodded. “Yes, your father was killed in the same battle.”

“Thousands of people died then,” Wolfram muttered somberly, staring at the wet ground. The Battle of Derington took place in Big Cimaron sixteen years ago, when he was only four. He didn’t remember anything about it, only what he had read in history books. It had been the last battle during which the Demons had been driven out of Humans’ lands. Or so Humans thought. Demons, of course, believed that since they had lived there since time immemorial, the territory was theirs, and Humans were driving them out of their homes.

“Yes, thousands of them,” Eldara said softly. “And what was the point? Demons are coming back again with peace and trade treaties.”

“Do you hate Demons?”

“That’s not a very smart question to ask, Wolfram. But no, I don’t hate you. Instead, I am rather wary of you. Demons are tougher and smarter. You mature faster as well. I always try to remember that when dealing with you.”

“I noticed that you don’t particularly like your Demon heritage.”

“I wouldn’t say that I don’t like it. It’s just there. It wouldn’t make much sense not to like or like it. But there are cases when I really appreciate it.”

Wolfram was silent for a moment. Just as he had suspected, Eldara did have a contract with one of the elements. Athara used water, and Halea a wind element. He wondered which of the four the duke controlled.

“When we had been attacked, no one used esoteric stones,” Wolfram wondered. “It had been a planned attack. They must have known Halea is able to use one of the elements.”

“Not necessarily,” Eldara said. “Most half-bloods are resistant to esoteric stones. Thus, in all probability, they thought there was no point in taking them. Besides, they are hard to afford.”

Wolfram smiled to himself.

“What are you grinning at?”

“I am pretty certain that there have already been quite a few attempts at you and your family. By this time, probably the whole Raizgad knows that esoteric stones don’t work on either of you.”

Eldara laughed softly. “You’re clearly recovering from your concussion.”

“I suspect that this is the closest to a compliment that I will ever receive from you,” Wolfram said.

“I didn’t know you were interested in receiving my compliments.”

Despite the cool air, Wolfram’s face flushed red. Eldara gave him a curious look. He hadn’t expected the blond to react to the light teasing like this. Wolfram’s eyes stayed fixed on the ground, and it was obvious he was at a loss as to what to say. The duke suddenly realized that the younger male was very conscious of him. Eldara wasn’t certain what had caused this, but this was an interesting observation.

Eldara cleared his throat, but then understood that anything he would say would only make the matters even more awkward, so he kept quiet. The sound, though, made the color on Wolfram’s face even deeper. 

Until this moment, Wolfram had not realized that he, indeed, wanted to be complimented by Eldara. It wasn’t that he experienced some romantic feelings towards the duke. It was probably the matter of Eldara being more experienced, very intelligent, and also older than him. He also respected Eldara and felt a little intimidated by him. A compliment from a person one looked up to was always precious.

The blush slowly receded from Wolfram’s face. He was grateful to the duke for not commenting any further. He was apprehensive to think what Eldara thought of his embarrassed silence. 

“What element do you wield?” Wolfram asked, hoping that this sounded like a sensible transition between topics. 

The duke was very tempted to tease the blond again then decided against it. Wolfram would probably clam up and ignore him for the rest of their outing. And he rather liked talking to Wolfram.

“Care to guess?”

“Hmm… Earth?”

Eldara gave him a searching look. “Why would you think so?”

Wolfram chuckled. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

The duke nodded, smiling. “Yes, you are. I didn’t think it was so easy to tell, though.”

“Well, all earth element wielders have a few distinguishing traits.”

“Such as?”

“I think you know them pretty well yourself.”

“But of course. However, I am very interested in hearing your version.”

“Are you? All earth wielders that I’ve ever met were tyrannical, bent on power and control individuals.”

Eldara didn’t even try to hide his grin. “It is usually said that we have authoritative and responsible personalities, but, yes, I like your version better.” Eldara’s grin widened even more; he was thoroughly enjoying himself. “And what do people say about fire wielders?”

Wolfram flushed red for the third time since he had woken up in the morning. People often said that most fire wielders were hot-tempered, whimsical, and arrogant. It was commonly said that they also have a higher sex drive than others. He would rather die than repeat all that. But it seemed that the duke was satisfied with the question alone, giving him mercy and not waiting for him to answer.

“Most of what people say is nonsense anyway,” Wolfram muttered.

Eldara burst out laughing. “Well, yes,” he agreed. He gave Wolfram a wink. “I didn’t receive any strange reports from my maids. I’m afraid, however, that people might be right about the rest of the characteristics.”

Wolfram muttered something under his breath, most likely an insult.

Eldara chuckled. “Don’t we get along just splendidly?”

“Yes, like a house on fire.”

“Indeed, indeed,” the duke said, completely ignoring the blond’s sarcastic tone.

Wolfram wondered how much his status had changed after he had saved Halea. Athara had certainly warmed up to him, Halea adored him, but the duke still kept treating him like a kid instead of acknowledging him. This annoyed Wolfram to no end.

“Well, let’s head for Odule Temple,” Eldara said. “We’ll look around on the way.”

Only now did Wolfram become aware that they had entered the town. The time had just flown past unnoticed, and he hadn’t even had time to get bored; maybe to get a little bit annoyed, though.

“Odule?” Wolfram drawled questioningly.

“It is right there,” the duke extended his hand to show a dark stone building far ahead, a few squares away. “The God of Lightning.”

“I see. How many gods do you have in Kardera?”

Eldara shook his head, amused. “I am not certain. It is pretty hard to keep track of all of them. The total number would probably come up to over a hundred.”

“I suppose I should have asked about Raizgad instead.”

“Well, there’s Aurun, Odule, the God of War, the Goddess of Peace, the God of Fire, the Goddess of Rain, the Goddess of Cattle, the Goddess of Luck and so on and so forth.”

“You don’t seem to be a very religious man…”

“Oh, I’m a very big believer, Wolfram. I believe that everyone should believe in something, be it heavenly punishment or reward. Religion is a very good disciplinary measure. The more believers there are, the easier is to control them.”

“Like sheep, aren’t they?” Wolfram muttered. “You can practically make them do anything if they believe that their god demands that.”

The duke gave him an appreciative look. “Exactly.”

Wolfram sighed. “I am glad that Shin Makoku limits itself with four gods,” he said, deciding not to pursue the topic.

“Ah yes, you have it easy. The God of War, Love, Fertility, and Death. I have always been amazed by the logical counterpart each god has.”

“It is disputable, but some historians claim that the logic came during the reign of Hadrian the Blackbeard. He seems to have reorganized the entire pantheon at a sword’s tip.”

“An efficient man.”

“Yes, he indeed was,” Wolfram agreed, watching a peasant scurry out of their way. The reaction to the duke, just as Wolfram had guessed, was different than to Halea. People tried to avoid their party, and, if their and Eldara’s gazes met, they bowed deeply and hurried away.

“Where does Athara spend his time? He rarely stays in the castle,” Wolfram asked after a few minutes of looking around. He was surprised to see that his question made the duke frown in distaste.

“I’m certain your curiosity will be satisfied soon,” Eldara said. “He mentioned something about taking you together with him in thanks for your heroic deed.”

“I see.” The duke didn’t elaborate anything more on the subject, and it was clear to Wolfram that any further inquiries would be brushed off.

A racket farther down the street attracted their attention. The duke motioned for some of his guards to move forward and their horses broke into gallop. Wolfram was immediately aware of how his interpreter had moved closer to him; the man reasonably thought that the safest place was near someone who was able to summon a destructive fire lion.

When Wolfram and Eldara rode into the scene of action, they were met with a curious sight: the guards had formed two small groups to isolate someone inside. A crowd of onlookers had gathered as well.

“What is going on here?” the duke inquired the captain, who had hurried over to them both.

“There was a fight, Your Grace,” the captain explained. “It seems that those three men,” he pointed at one group, “assaulted the son of Lennon Barista of Elkia.”

The duke glanced at the three men then looked at the opposite side where one man stood separated from the crowd. “Ah, the baron’s son,” he said. A bit farther, a man was lying on the ground. A few villagers were tending to him. 

“Yes, Your Grace.” The captain pointed at the man on the ground. “His guard is unconscious, but Barista has escaped serious injuries. Just a few bruises.”

“Your Grace!” Barista’s high-pitched voice echoed through the crowd. He moved forward but was held back by the duke’s soldiers. “Your Grace!” he called again to get the duke’s attention.

Listening to his interpreter’s quick prattle, Wolfram watched Barista, who was on the verge of starting to wrestle with the soldiers. His nose was bloodied and he was shaking in barely controlled anger.

“Your Grace, I demand justice! These lowlifes attacked me out of nowhere! They injured me and beat my bodyguard unconscious. They should be hanged at once! Thieving bastards!”

“You scum!”

“Liar!”

Some bustle followed in the second group, the guards forcing one of the men to the ground and trussing his arm behind his back. Other guards had a firm hold on the other two men.

“Quiet!” the duke snapped as the third one was still continuing to struggle and curse mindlessly. Eldara threw the reins to the captain and slid off his horse. Eldara walked closer to the baron’s son but his face was carefully blank, he not showing much reaction to the man’s demands. “Sir…?”

“Sir Verinas Barista, Your Grace,” the son of the baron introduced himself, bowing lightly. “Your Grace, could you tell the guards to release me? It’s those damn peasants who are dangerous criminals.”

Eldara nodded. “Yes, of course. Just don’t move far away from my men in case those beasts break free.”

Wolfram watched the guards separate to let Verinas go free. However, the man stayed close to the guards just as advised. Eldara hadn’t come closer to him either, and Wolfram realized that the duke was taking a neutral stand.

“So, what happened?” Eldara asked.

“Your Grace, I was riding down the street to the fountain when I was suddenly attacked! They dragged me and my bodyguard off the horse and then…”

“Yes, thank you. And previously?”

The baron’s son gave Eldara a questioning look. “Your Grace? They are thieves.”

“He raped our sister!”

The duke turned to the other three men. “Oh? Did he?”

“Your Grace, he…”

“How dare you lie!” Verinas cut the man off. “She kept clinging to me day after day! What rape are you talking about?! I have been trying to get rid of her for a whole month! She wouldn’t leave me alone! She must have had a heinous plan to rob me. So when she hadn’t succeeded, these three jumped me!”

“You piece of shit! You…”

“You’re dead! You’re so fuckin’…”

“I’m gonna rip you a-”

Eldara snapped his fingers, giving a signal to his soldiers, and the shrill voices quieted down, the three men collapsing in a heap of groaning and moaning mass.

“I won’t repeat myself, gentlemen,” the duke said. He looked at the crowd, which shrank back a little. “Where is that woman they are talking about? I’d like to have a word with her.”

“Your Grace, why would you listen to some half-witted villager?” Barista started. “She is j-” 

“Your Highness! Lord von Bielefeld! Have mercy!”

Wolfram was completely stunned for a moment when one of the three men launched himself at him. It was clear that Wolfram wouldn’t be able to move his horse out of the way so fast. But before he or the guards could make their move, the duke had already made a few steps forward, knocking the man away with an abrupt backhand hit, sending him spinning to the ground.

“Now, listen,” Eldara hissed down at the groaning man. “One more brilliant idea like that, and I’m sending you directly onto the scaffold. Understood?”

The man nodded dizzily, touching his split lip.

“Why wait, Your Grace?” Barista chuckled. “Th-” He clamped his mouth shut as Eldara’s hand moved, making the soldiers look at him. The duke didn’t say a word but gave him such a look that Barista grasped at once that it was best to keep quiet for now.

Eldara gave him a sharp smile. “Thank you, Sir. Now, if somebody would be so kind as to show me to the heroine of this spectacle, I would be grateful forever.”

“Can I go as well?” Wolfram asked when the words had been interpreted to him.

The duke gave him a thoughtful stare then looked at the man he had hit and who was already being dragged back to his brothers. “I suppose you can,” he said softly. “It seems you have already gotten involved after all.”

“Well, he did ask me to intervene,” Wolfram remarked. “I will. Even if only for the sake of satisfying my curiosity.”

“Curiosity?” Eldara shook his head, snorting but said nothing. With a few soldiers in tow, the duke approached a couple of men who had stepped forward.

From afar, Wolfram watched them converse. Of course, he understood that any interference on his part was practically impossible. The duke was going to do with the brothers anything he wanted. After all, they were his subjects. All he could do was to observe the situation. It had been surprising enough that Eldara hadn’t commented on his words.

The duke and two of his soldiers started following one of the two men, who had started showing the way. The rest of the guards stayed in place while keeping watch on Verinas and the three brothers. Wolfram urged his horse after the duke, his interpreter and bodyguards moving together with him. There had been no invitation for Wolfram but the blond figured that the duke’s earlier agreement granted him all permission he needed.

In fact, Wolfram didn’t feel so much of interest in the incident itself. He was more curious about how the duke was going to resolve it. As Wolfram had to rely on his interpreter, he didn’t dare to venture any presumptions about the situation.

Fifteen minutes later, one of the soldiers was knocking on the door of a shabby looking cottage. An elderly woman appeared in the doorway, and Wolfram listened to them exchange words. She glanced at the duke and bowed, moving out of the doorway. Nonetheless, Wolfram could tell that she didn’t want them entering. She didn’t have any choice, though.

Eldara climbed off his horse, motioned for Wolfram and the interpreter to follow him, then went after the woman and his soldier inside. When all four of them filed into a small kitchen, the woman looked aghast. She asked them to wait until she warned her daughter about visitors. She disappeared behind a large wardrobe which separated the kitchen and the bedroom. 

Wolfram could hear the women whispering behind the wardrobe. His exceptional hearing allowed him to catch every word but he couldn’t understand them. Wondering if the duke’s hearing was as good as his, Wolfram moved closer to the tiled furnace to warm up. The air smelled of herbs. He found the smell unpleasant. Wolfram looked around the modest kitchen. Despite the fact that it was a bright day outside, it was only half-light inside, the smoky glass windows letting in only vague light. However, there was nothing much to see: it was poor but clean. Everything seemed to be old and worn: the table, chairs, cupboards, and even the furnace itself. Things had been fixed over time: two chairs had new legs, the furnace had a few slabs of stone tiles, a new mug stood next to one with chipped brim. The brothers probably didn’t even live here anymore; all three of them looked strong and old enough to build a house and have their own families.

The woman reappeared only five minutes later. Reluctantly, she took them behind the wardrobe. The smell of herbs was much stronger now. A young woman bowed lightly as soon as she saw them. Wolfram had the impression that she was a little unsteady on her feet. The duke motioned for her to sit down on the bed. Her face looked as if she had been crying a lot.

The duke looked around, taking in the room but there was nowhere to sit down except three worn beds. The elderly woman was about to rush out to bring a chair from the kitchen but Eldara stopped her. As soon as he sat down on the adjacent bed, something whooshed off it and hid under the bed, making the duke and the soldiers start.

“A cat,” Wolfram, whose eyes were better at discerning moving things, said.

The daughter was apprehensive, nervously staring at them. Wolfram was certain that if what the brothers had said was true, it hadn’t been a good idea for all of them to be here; three armed men and a Demon could make anyone wary.

Wolfram listened to the duke and the woman converse silently. At first, the interpreter had started whispering into Wolfram’s ear, but then the blond stopped him as it was distracting both the woman and the duke. Only when they had stopped talking did Wolfram ask for the interpreter to sum up their conversation. 

They left the cottage in silence. Climbing onto his horse, Wolfram glimpsed a sight of faces behind the windows in the surrounding houses. The town’s people would have plenty of material for conversations for years to come. The duke had a thoughtful look on his face and Wolfram would have given a lot to know what he was thinking. The way Eldara had been talking to the woman had left a big impact on Wolfram. He hadn’t thought that the man was capable of such consideration and thoughtfulness. 

“Should I get raped for you to start taking me seriously as well?”

The duke gave Wolfram a disturbed look and then shook his head. The ungodly joke and the moment in which the blond had chosen to tell it disgusted him. “You lack proper manners.”

“Yes, I do.”

Eldara rolled his eyes. “I’m taking you seriously. More than some people, actually.” For a few moments he was silent then spoke again: “You aren’t a very sympathetic person, are you?”

“Probably not,” Wolfram admitted. “Well, it’s not that I can change anything. I’m more interested in what you’re going to do about the baron’s son. You would not want to incur his father’s displeasure, would you? He seems to be an influential man.”

Eldara gave a look to the interpreter, who squirmed uncomfortably. “He is,” the duke agreed.

“So it’s better to stay friends with him.”

The duke rolled his eyes again. Of course it was better to get along with him. Lennon Barista of Elkia ruled over a rich land in the neighboring Arklend dukedom and was the subject of Neryan von Sedera. The duke and Baristas maintained a good relationship, which meant that the baron would complain to the duke.

The baron’s son kept his smile on when Eldara and Wolfram returned. If he was worried, he was good at hiding it. The crowd had not dispersed, on the contrary – even more people had joined in. The soldiers had to push them back to make more space. It was obvious that before they arrived heated discussions had taken place. The guards must have been troubled.

“Throw those three into the dungeon,” Eldara said, motioning with his head at the brothers. He slid off his horse, intending to have a word with the baron’s son.

Wolfram expected the crowd to start protesting, but it was silent. There was a commotion, though, and one of the brothers broke free from the guard who had been trying to tie his hands. Swords jingled, but the duke raised his hand to stop his soldiers. He watched the brother run up to him and fall onto his knees. Eldara grabbed the man with one hand by the front of his shirt and yanked him onto his feet before he could open his mouth to start begging. The sight of the bulky man in the duke’s grasp was somehow amusingly unsettling: the man was nearly twice as big as Eldara.

“I’m not interested in anything you want to say,” the duke said to the man. He pulled him closer so that their faces nearly touched. Eldara smiled. There was nothing warm in that smile. Wolfram listened to him hissing something at the man. The words were barely audible even for his ears. He didn’t know what Eldara was saying, but the man paled suddenly. He started saying something but Eldara punched him in the gut, and he fell over moaning. The duke prodded him with his foot, and the man let out a row of groans and howls as if his ribs were broken.

Appalled, Wolfram watched one of the guards drag the seemingly half-conscious man to his brothers. 

“Sir Barista,” the duke said, walking over to him. “It would be much safer to spend the night in the castle.” He looked around meaningfully.

Barista took in the people surrounding them. The faces weren’t friendly. Nobody knew if he would reach the inn he was staying at safely. “Yes, Your Grace. It’s a good idea. Thank you very much for the invitation.”

“It’s the least I can do,” Eldara said. He nodded lightly and returned to his horse.

Wolfram was still waiting for the crowd to demand justice. Nothing happened. There were a few discontent murmurs and glares directed at both the duke and Barista but then the crowd simply started dispersing.

“I’m very disappointed in you,” Wolfram said when all of them had finally started moving towards the castle.

The duke’s eyebrows rose. “Are you? You break my heart, Wolfram. But I do have to maintain a decent level of order so that all of us wouldn’t suddenly find ourselves on burning sticks.”

“Well, we do have to stick together,” Wolfram agreed somberly, but with a little sarcasm seeping through. “But, really…this kind of thing…” He looked at the duke, but the man wasn’t even listening to him. Now, he was motioning for the captain of the guards. The man quickly rode up to the duke. The interpreter stayed silent, and, frowning, all Wolfram could do was listen to them exchange meaningless words. 

Tbc


	13. Part 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Kyou Kara Maou! – It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I’m not making any money from writing it.  
> Warnings: yaoi (male x male), violence, swearing, angst, drama. Wolfram-centric, out of character, original character.  
> Summary: With Yuuri’s upcoming birthday, Wolfram makes his decision. Where will it lead him and what is to become of them? Should eventually be Yuuri x Wolfram.  
> A/N 1: Yuuri – 18 years old. Wolfram – 20. Eldara – 31. Halea – 20. Athara – 18.  
> A/N 2: Greta doesn’t exist.  
> A/N 3: European/American/Japanese standards all at once depending on the plot requirements.  
> A/N 4: A tendency to ignore the anime/manga and supplement the story with my own imagined facts.   
> A/N 5: Season III is not taken into consideration, except for the fact that Wolfram’s uncle exists.  
> A/N 6: The umlaut in Gunter’s name is a bother.

**Bloom**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by HARPG0

Part 13

Wolfram sipped his tea silently while watching Barista over the edge of his cup. He found it unpleasant to sit with the man at the same table. Out of sheer annoyance, he wasn’t interested in what he and the duke were conversing about. Thus, the interpreter at his side had been enjoying a peaceful meal from the very beginning of the dinner. Of course, Wolfram knew he was being rude to the duke’s guest, but Barista Verinas was of no importance to Wolfram, and he couldn’t force himself to care. And if ever, by some miracle, Wolfram needed to deal with his father, he intended to give him a piece of his mind about his rapist son.

Analyzing his thoughts, Wolfram emptied his cup. Humming, he lowered it onto the table. He really was practically apolitical, just as the duke had said. Fine with him. He could afford being apolitical having Gwendal behind his back, after all. Besides, it was better to be apolitical instead of being forced to entertain scum.

As Wolfram and Eldara returned late, now only the four of them were sitting at the dining table. Athara and Halea had already had their dinner two hours ago. Wolfram was certain that if Eldara had invited, the two would have joined them, but it was apparent that the duke hadn’t even planned to. Obviously, Verinas wasn’t someone Eldara was eager to seat at one table with his siblings.

“Let’s have some wine,” Eldara suggested when it was clear that Wolfram was about to leave the table. The duke was not surprised to see the blond give him a rather irritated look.

“It seems your bodyguard suffered no serious injuries, except that bang on his head,” Eldara said while a servant was pouring their glasses. “He’ll be fit enough to be up and around tomorrow.”

“Oh, that’s good,” Verinas said. “I’m so relieved.”

Wolfram rolled his eyes at the white wine filling his glass. If Barista had been so interested in the well-being of his bodyguard, he would have inquired Eldara about his health beforehand. The duke intentionally hadn’t mentioned anything, wondering when Barista would remember his injured man.

“To justice.” Wolfram saluted the other two men with his glass. Not waiting for an answer, he sipped his wine. He could see how unsettled Barista became when the interpreter translated his salutation, and a part of Wolfram, which was purely sadistic, was reveling in his discomfort. He also allowed himself to ignore the warning look the duke gave him, telling him to behave.

Eldara watched the blond from across the table. He had regretted stopping Wolfram from leaving. He had intended to humor himself by aggravating the blond but it had backfired. He had forgotten to take a lot of factors into the account. First, the blond was spoiled and arrogant and didn’t bother talking to people he despised. And, when he did speak to them, he didn’t hide what he thought of them. Second, Wolfram was nearly always aggressive in his defense. And, finally, the blond was unbelievably stubborn. You couldn’t just seat him down and expect him to obey.

The duke decided he couldn’t be bothered to breach the silence, which had suddenly settled at the table. Barista seemed to be just as lively but his smile had vanished. What Barista didn’t know was that Wolfram’s salute had mostly been intended for Eldara as a means of getting back at the duke for forcing him to stay at the table.

Wolfram was sipping his wine with malicious intensity. He wasn’t looking at Verinas, but Eldara could tell that the blond was immensely enjoying his ability to make the other man uncomfortable and intended to use it to the fullest. It was clear that Wolfram already felt at home in the castle. He felt comfortable and daring enough to ignore the master’s warnings and challenge his guest. Eldara couldn’t decide if he was glad or angry about the fact. Probably, he felt a bit of both.

\---

Wolfram was jolted out of his sleep by a loud pounding on his door. Disoriented, he kept blinking at the darkness while the hammering continued to echo through the room. Someone was shouting behind the door but he couldn’t understand what they were saying.

“What happened?” Wolfram croaked, sitting up and summoning his fire element. 

There were more shouts and even more insistent pounding but the sturdy door was locked from the inside and to open it one would need a siege weapon. Wolfram, surrounded by a halo of flames, walked over to the chair where his bathrobe hung and dressed while watching the door apprehensively. He wasn’t going to open it before he knew what was going on. He looked over at a clock on the table. It was five o’clock in the morning. It was completely dark behind the curtains.

The pounding went on for about a minute. Wolfram could hear feet shuffling behind the door and someone saying something then it became quiet all of a sudden. In the silence that followed, the blond could hear the distant shouts and the jingle of metal.

“Your Highness?”

Wolfram startled in surprise at the loud voice of his interpreter. “Yes? What is happening?”

“Are you alright, Sir?”

“Yes, I’m perfectly fine. What’s with all the noise?”

“The prisoners escaped from the dungeon, Sir. The guards are checking the rooms in order to find them.”

Wolfram stared at the door suspiciously. “You mean that they want to search my room as well, don’t they?”

“Yes, Sir. If you please.”

It didn’t matter whether he pleased or not – the room would still be searched just to make certain that he hadn’t been taken hostage or wasn’t hiding the prisoners under his bed. The blond didn’t feel like opening the door, but his oral guarantee was worthless in this case.

“Wolfram, open the door, please.”

This was the duke’s voice and, reassured, Wolfram moved forward. He turned the key and pushed the heavy door open. For a moment, the men outside the door turned motionless and stared at the blond wide-eyed. Confused, Wolfram turned to look behind him but there was no one there. 

“Your fire element,” the duke explained after meeting the blond’s questioning gaze.

“Oh. Should I extinguish it?”

“No, you can keep it,” Eldara said. Again, he looked at the fire floating around Wolfram. “It’s just that we aren’t used to sights like this.”

“I see,” Wolfram said, backing out of the doorway, allowing the duke and the soldiers to pass. The interpreter was already absent, and Wolfram decided that Eldara had dismissed him. The blond moved to stand next to the door and watched the four soldiers looking around his room. One went straight for the wardrobe and another checked under the bed. The curtains were opened and then drawn again.

“I believe the doctor advised against summoning your fire element?” the duke asked.

Wolfram’s eyes left the guards. “Um… What?” he asked absentmindedly. “Ah, yes. I somehow did that unconsciously.”

“Did you?” Seeing the unusual expression on Wolfram’s face, Eldara moved forward. “Hey, are you…?”

“Wh-?” Wolfram stuttered when his legs suddenly started to fold under him. He tried to grasp at the door handle to keep himself upright but his fingers slid through the empty air.

“Got you,” the duke huffed out, grabbing Wolfram before he could slide to the floor. He shifted his hold on the blond then hefted him up into his arms and headed toward the bed. The funny thing was, he thought while carrying Wolfram, that the blond would have probably been alright if he hadn’t been made aware of his fire element.

“Do you feel sick?” Eldara asked, lowering Wolfram into his bed. He brushed the bathrobe farther away from the blond’s neck and towards his shoulders, so that his throat wouldn’t be constrained. Even while doing that he realized that it was mostly a habit – there was no way the fluffy material constrained something.

In attempt to clear his vision, Wolfram blinked rapidly. “No. Just…the room’s spinning. I’m a little bit…dizzy.”

Eldara beckoned one of the soldiers closer and sent him to get the nurse. Then his attention returned to Wolfram. The blond didn’t look bad, nor did he look upset. The duke touched the blond’s forehead and then his right temple but there was no fever. He sat down on the bed next to Wolfram, who gave him a sheepish smile.

“It will probably take some time for you to be able to use your element without being penalized.”

Wolfram nodded silently. He noticed that the duke was looking at his right hand. The half-healed scratches were hardly visible due to the feeble light the oil lamp offered. Yet, it was very noticeable that his hand needed no bandages. Wolfram felt the bed shift, and Eldara stood up. Detached, the blond watched the man’s back while he was walking over to the table.

The duke took the oil lamp off the table and brought it over to the nightstand at the blond’s bed. Now he was able to take a more careful look at his hand. It seemed that, just as the doctor had said, it was healing properly.

“Your Grace?”

The duke turned to face the soldier who had called him. “Ah, yes. You can leave if you’re done here.”

The three soldiers saluted and hurried off to continue searching the castle.

“It seems I have underestimated you,” Wolfram said when the door closed and they were left alone. 

“I wouldn’t know what you’re talking about, Wolfram.”

The blond chuckled lightly. “The prisoners, Your Grace. The prisoners, who have miraculously escaped from your dungeon.”

“I believe I did tell you to call me by my name.”

“Hmm… No, instead of ‘underestimated’,” Wolfram continued, ignoring him, “I should probably say ‘misjudged’.”

“Don’t worry; people do that all the time.”

Wolfram chuckled again. He still felt faint but his head was becoming clearer. “What will happen when Verinas’ father comes?”

Eldara leaned down closer to Wolfram in order to look at his face. He watched Wolfram carefully, wondering whether the blond was deliberately using his brother’s shampoo. 

During Wolfram’s stay in the castle, he had regained the weight he had lost. The several months the blond had spent in the army had made him look tougher, more muscular, and the blond was also taller than when Eldara had last seen him in Shin Makoku. However, he still smelled of Athara’s shampoo, which was the same as smelling like a toddler. Really, Wolfram must be doing that on purpose.

“And why are you so interested? One may think that you’re concerned about my well-being,” the duke drawled slowly.

There was a certain low intonation in Eldara’s voice, and Wolfram felt a shiver go down his spine. It was a strange sensation. Not one he disliked, though. 

“It’s just curiosity,” Wolfram answered lightheartedly, deciding to play it safe.

The duke gave him a sharp unconvinced smile. Wolfram wasn’t certain how to react to the long and intent look the duke was giving him. He felt his cheeks turn pink and hoped that this wasn’t visible in the half-light. He stiffened when Eldara’s fingers pulled on his bathrobe’s collar, closing it tighter around his neck. Wolfram nearly jolted out of his skin when there was a loud knock on the door. He was glad that it was the duke who had answered and let the nurse in. Wolfram didn’t trust his throat to make more than a squeak.

“Don’t worry. I will deal with him when the time comes,” the duke said, standing up. “Your assistance, though, would be very welcome.”

Wolfram watched Eldara leave. He nodded faintly when the duke said he would send for the interpreter. 

Once the other man had left, Wolfram thought that maybe he had misunderstood something. Did Eldara really flirt with him? It had been a strange sensation. Most Human cultures had certain rules and regulations concerning same sex relationships. He wasn’t certain how it was in Kardera. Was it allowed or was it frowned upon? During his stay he hadn’t noticed any displays he could draw conclusions from. Maybe there had been some, but he hadn’t noticed because he had been preoccupied with… Wolfram suddenly wondered what he had been preoccupied with. Actually, he had been preoccupied with absolutely nothing. All he had done was let the current of surrounding events carry him with it. 

And…when it came to that, nobody would ever flirt with a royal emissary out of fear that it was politically incorrect and he or she would demand have their head chopped off. They would only flirt back. And Wolfram hadn’t ever thought of flirting with anyone because…well, because he just didn’t flirt. He simply didn’t. Unless it was with Yuuri but it had never worked anyway. A complete waste of time.

As if daring her to come closer, Wolfram stared at the nurse, who stared right back at him. It didn’t seem that she had a faintest idea what was wrong with him. Wolfram didn’t have one, either. He was lightly aroused, but, unless she was a Demon, she couldn’t have known that. It was too dark in the room.

The look on the blond’s face told the nurse that it was best to stay back, so she did. She, however, seemed to be worried about Wolfram’s sudden hostility. In fact, it was more embarrassment that Wolfram felt, but, out of habit, he covered it with, in his opinion, more appropriate emotions.

Wolfram’s head turned towards the door, where, after a knock, the interpreter appeared.

“I’m glad His Highness is safe,” he said bowing.

“Yes, thank you for your worry,” Wolfram muttered. “Tell her she can go. I feel fine, just tired. I’ll just go back to sleep.” Absentminded, he listened to the nurse and the interpreter exchange words.

“Oh, Your Highness,” the interpreter said when they finished talking, “Mela extends her utmost apologies to Sir for being late. But she had to tend to Lord Barista’s wounds first.”

Wolfram perked up. “You don’t say!” He grinned widely when his interpreter confirmed his words with a nod.

“Yes, Sir,” the interpreter said, obviously thinking that the expression on Wolfram’s face was very inappropriate. “The prisoners got into his room and nearly killed him!” he said, clasping his hands in horror.

“Poor bugger,” Wolfram said, continuing to grin, wondering who of the two was worth of his sympathy: the duke or Verinas. For some reason, he couldn’t muster any for Barista. However, Eldara had dug himself a very deep hole; only naïve idiots like his interpreter thought that it had been an accidental escape and attack.

Wolfram suddenly felt giddy with the excitement. So, this was what Eldara had meant when he said that his assistance was very welcome. Oh, without doubt, he was going to support anything the duke maintained.

\---

Wolfram joined the von Ashira family at lunch. It was unusually quiet at the dinner table. The duke, though, didn’t seem any different from usual. It was the other two siblings who appeared to have an apprehensive air about them.

“Do you feel well, Wolfram?” Eldara asked, watching the blond quickly shoveling half of the table into his plate. Fried potatoes, chicken, salad, sauce, pork, some more potatoes, everything went until the large plate was so full, that one less careful move would have made the potatoes spill and roll all over the table. The answer was obvious.

“Oh, yes, extremely well. Thank you for asking,” Wolfram said, digging into fried chicken. “Any news about Barista’s health?”

“I’m afraid he’s feeling much worse than you,” Athara answered, racking through his salad in his plate. He gave Wolfram’s plate a morose look. Why was the blond in such a good mood?

“What a pity,” Wolfram said, munching on his chicken with increased appetite.

“You don’t seem… All that upset,” Athara noted.

“Oh, I am! I really am!” Wolfram said enthusiastically, fishing for more potatoes. “I’ve never been so upset in my entire life!”

“You certainly…”

“Athara, he hates the man,” Eldara said, cutting his brother off as it seemed the pointless conversation was going to drag on and on.

For a few seconds, it was silent at the table with the only sounds being the duke’s and Wolfram’s forks scraping the plates.

“Why? What has he ever done to you?” Athara asked.

Now, Wolfram became conscious that neither Athara nor Halea were aware of real circumstances. Suddenly, he had no idea what to say.

“Fredrick von Sarda is arriving this evening,” Eldara said, giving Wolfram a glance.

“Fredrick who?” Halea wondered.

The duke looked like he was about to say something but he never voiced it out. Instead, he smiled. “The same Fredrick, who was so passionate about you in Shin Makoku during His Majesty Yuuri Shibuya’s birthday.”

Understanding dawned on Halea’s face. “Oh, him!”

Wolfram could guess that if he hadn’t been present at the table, the duke would have said something to his sister like “No wonder you’re still single; you have a memory like a goldfish”. But then, Eldara probably never said anything like that to his sister. He was much stricter with Athara.

“What is the reason for such a sudden visit?” Halea asked in a hopeful voice.

The duke nodded to confirm her suspicions. “Well, it seems the attempt on you has shaken him up quite a bit. He… I think he wants to make certain you’re sound and well.”

Athara rolled his eyes. “And he won’t rest until he has had visual proof of that, right?” he said. “How romantic!”

Wolfram thought that he had suddenly become the most interesting thing in the dining room. He realized that everyone was looking at him as if waiting what he had to say to that. He smiled brightly.

“Sounds like a very caring young man,” he said. If the duke or his siblings believed he would object to von Sarda seeing Halea, they were deluding themselves. He couldn’t care less about who Halea was seeing or marrying, for that matter. “I can’t wait to meet him.”

\---

“Would you care to join me for a glass of wine?” the duke suggested to Wolfram when they were leaving the dining room.

“Certainly, I would.”

Wolfram followed Eldara to his chambers. Comfortably seating himself on a couch, he couldn’t help noticing how different it was this time – he didn’t feel so out of place as he had felt the last time he had been there. He watched the duke opening the cupboard next to the window.

“You prefer white wine, don’t you?” Eldara asked Wolfram, already retrieving the drinks.

Wolfram nodded. “Yes.” 

When Eldara brought the glasses and drinks and lowered them onto the coffee table in front of him, Wolfram thought that maybe he should have chosen the large table in the middle of the room instead of the couch. Sitting side by side with the man was going to be a little awkward. Eldara started pouring the glasses, and Wolfram shifted along the small table so that, now, he was sitting nearly parallel with its left edge. He expected the duke to sit down near the right corner so that there would be enough space between them to make both of them feel comfortable.

“So, will you tell me how it really went?” Wolfram asked, twirling his glass between his fingers. He blushed when he nearly dropped it. He checked quickly to see if he had spilled anything on Athara’s clothing.

“Are you certain you want to know?” the duke asked, sitting down, aware of the large gap Wolfram had left between them. He wondered what exactly the blond was afraid of.

Wolfram’s eyebrows rose a little. The duke was giving him a way out. However, Wolfram had never been more eager in his life as he was now to become an accomplice. 

“Oh yes, I’m pretty certain. Would it make it easier if I asked questions and you answered?”

Taking his glass, the duke shrugged. “Yes, why not? This way I’ll also know of how much you’re aware,” he said, chuckling. He toasted Wolfram and took a sip. This was his favorite wine and, contently, he leaned back into the couch to enjoy it.

“Ah,” Wolfram said, already regretting his suggestion. He laughed. “Well, long ago, we established the fact that I was not worth being complimented. So, I don’t think I should worry about ruining my image.”

The duke took another sip. “No, you shouldn’t,” he said. “There’s not so much to ruin after all.”

Wolfram rolled his eyes. “And why did I know you would say that?”

Eldara toasted him with his glass again. “It seems you know me pretty well.”

“Yes, I also know that you don’t mean half of what you say,” Wolfram said, sniffing at his wine tentatively then taking a careful sip. He frowned at the taste: dry and sour. He lowered it back to the table. The taste was nearly the same as…

Eldara chuckled. “Would you prefer something different?”

“Yes, please. This one… The taste is awfully similar to the one I…” Wolfram trailed off.

“Ah, yes… to the one you had overdosed on during your ex-fiancé’s birthday,” Eldara finished for him, getting up and walking over back to the cupboard, missing the redness spreading over Wolfram’s face. “I suppose you still have bad memories of it.”

“Yes,” Wolfram agreed, “precisely. So, as I was saying, you don’t mean half of what you say,” he continued, “but the other half is rather important. So, keeping that in mind, I would like to know what you said to the man before you punched him in the stomach.”

“You mean one of the brothers?” the duke asked, carrying a different bottle and an empty glass to the coffee table.

Wolfram nodded. “That’s what I said.”

“I gave him two options to choose from,” Eldara said, sitting down. “The first choice entailed a fair trial arranged by the baron of Elkia. In the second option, they were allowed to do anything except for killing or maiming his son for life. This option also included their families leaving the town and never coming back,” he finished, filling the blond’s glass.

“And then you hit him to make him look more harassed and afraid.”

Eldara passed the glass to Wolfram, who took it. “Well, I certainly couldn’t allow him to go around with a grin on his face.”

“I don’t think he is grinning much now,” Wolfram drawled thoughtfully. “Without a place to go and with a hungry family to boot…”

“Do you think their sister had a life here? Nobody would ever take her for a wife now; her life was as good as ruined.”

Wolfram nodded slowly then frowned. “A jingle. I thought I heard a faint jingle of coins when you hit him.” He suddenly laughed. “You gave him the money, didn’t you? About the same amount they would get for selling their houses, right?”

“No, much more, in fact. Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to count.”

Wolfram stared at the duke for a few second. “Oh gods,” he said suddenly. “That’s why nobody protested – they knew you won’t let him off so easily.”

“That might be so, but, Wolfram, you forget one tiny aspect of this case – I also have a sister. If anyone did or at least tried to do to her the same what has been done to that woman, I would rip them apart. With my bare hands if needed.”

Indeed, he had forgotten that. However, the men in the mob hadn’t. The entire town must be cheering now, knowing the perpetrator had been punished.

“But what is going to happen when the baron and the duke arrive?” Wolfram asked.

“And that, Wolfram, only depends on us,” Eldara said, pouring himself more wine.

\---

The doctor knocked on the door softly, and a faint voice told him to enter. Wolfram followed him into Barista’s room. Wolfram had come to gloat and he was perfectly aware of that. However, when he started moving towards Verinas’s bed, he didn’t feel the anticipated glee he had hoped to experience.

Silently, without announcing his appearance, Wolfram stood at the bed while the doctor pushed the cover aside then started unwrapping the bandage off Verinas’s broken leg to see how the nurse set it and how it was healing. It wasn’t healing that well, and Wolfram felt the urge to cover his ears to protect them from Barista’s shrill pain-filled howls that echoed in the room while the doctor was setting the bones anew. Even the medicine he had been having for pain hardly helped. The sounds of grinding bones made Wolfram grit his teeth unconsciously. Then it was finally over, Barista fell back into his bedding and panted heavily.

The blond watched Verinas’s wet with sweat face. It was black and blue; the eyes were so swollen that he couldn’t see anything. Try as he might, Wolfram could not summon those feelings of malevolence back. Disturbed, he averted his eyes. He stared through the window thoughtfully.

More agonized howls from Barista’s mouth made Wolfram want to leave immediately. Despite this, the blond forced himself to stand at his bed firmly. He stared at the darkening window while, in the background, the doctor was checking on Verina’s ribs then prodded his right arm, and his broken wrist. 

This was the price of justice. While Wolfram was convinced that the duke had done the right thing, there was something deep inside which, while listening to the tormented sounds, made him want to hit Eldara again and again.

Tbc


	14. Part 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kudos and happy New Year, everyone:)

**Bloom**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Tia Integra

Part 14

Wolfram was sitting on the couch when the duke entered the music room. This was the last place he thought he would find Wolfram as musicians were supposed to come only tomorrow, and, as far as he knew, Wolfram wasn’t even able to whistle a tune to entertain himself. It seemed that the blond had picked the music room because he wanted an opportunity to be alone. He had pushed one of the chairs to the window, and sat there with his elbows leaning on the sill, simply staring at the dark window. The feeble candle-light coming from the top of a nearby piano was illuminating Wolfram’s face on the glass. 

Eldara cleared his throat to get the blond’s attention. “Admiring your reflection?”

Wolfram’s head spun round so fast that there was even a little crack heard. “Gh!” he gasped, grabbing at the back of his neck. “Oh gods, it hurts! Hurts so bad!” He removed his hand off his nape when he saw Eldara’s worried face. “Kidding,” he said. “A little payback.” 

The duke’s eyebrows rose; the blond was in a strange mood. To any other bystander it would have looked as if Wolfram had been admiring his reflection on the window. However, Eldara knew that Wolfram’s eyes could see more than those of an average Human. But then, the duke doubted that Wolfram had been looking at anything at all.

“Is something troubling you?” Eldara asked.

Wolfram stood up. “No, nothing in particular,” he said, turning his chair around.

“You are a terrible liar, Wolfram.”

“Am I?” Wolfram said, with a sigh. He sat down on the chair so that now he was facing the duke. “I suppose it _is_ a serious drawback for politics, isn’t it?”

Expecting the conversation to last for a while, Eldara leaned on the closed door and crossed his arms. “Yes, it is.”

“What is it that you wanted?” Wolfram asked.

Yet, it didn’t seem that the blond was very chatty this evening. “Fredrick von Sarda asks your permission to see Halea,” the duke said.

“Why the hell does he need my permission to see her?” Wolfram asked, his irritation rising.

“Well, I just thought I would ask you. Just in case.”

Wolfram rolled his eyes. “You and your games. I suspect he didn’t even know I’m here before you told him?” He sighed. “Well, they do say that a woman who belongs to someone else looks prettier than one who doesn’t belong to anyone. But why, in the world, drag _me_ into this?”

“Oh, can’t you just humor me?”

“For gods’ sakes… Oh, alright,” Wolfram said, shaking his head in defeat. “I suppose it won’t do any harm. Tell him that this time I will allow him to see her. You can add that I was very reluctant about it.”

Eldara laughed. Pushing himself off the door, he uncrossed his arms. “Thanks. I highly appreciate this.”

“Yes, make sure you remember you words.”

“Oh, I always do.”

“And you’re such a liar, too.”

“I’m afraid you’re starting to see right through me.” 

\---

Wolfram was moodily munching on his bread spread with delicious goose liver pate. It was nearly eleven o’clock in the evening – the time he usually was already in bed – but von Sarda had just arrived, and it was only good manners to keep him company at the dinner table. Chewing, Wolfram thought that von Sarda could have saved their time by dining first and _then_ going to see Halea. But no, that was not what a gentleman did. Not if he wanted to win a lady’s favor. Wolfram felt like rolling his eyes. Then he wondered when he had become such a cynic in the matters of love. He quickly came to the conclusion that it was Yuuri’s fault.

All three siblings and von Sarda seemed to be immensely enjoying themselves. The conversation, though, didn’t hold Wolfram’s interest. It was only an exchange of stories about von Sarda’s trip, the retelling of the attempt at kidnapping Halea, discussion about the weather, and other pleasantries. The expensive pate was good, though, and Wolfram didn’t mind the late snack. It would have been even better if he couldn’t feel von Sarda stealing glances at him. He guessed that the man was envious of his status as Halea’s savior. 

Fredrick von Sarda looked and acted young and probably was someone who thought that he could kill thousands of enemies with only a swipe of his sword. Despite his young and foolish ardor, Wolfram found him quite agreeable and had to consent that, just as the duke believed, he was a good candidate for Halea’s hand. He was rich, a son of an influential man, and, in addition to all that, Eldara would easily keep him in his clutches.

Wolfram helped himself to another slice of bread with pate. He took a bite and closed his eyes in delight. He was going to get the recipe and make the cooks in Shin Makoku make it every day. Or, at least, on Sundays.

“…was fortunate, right, Wolfram?”

Wolfram opened his eyes. “Uh… Sorry, could you repeat that?”

“I said it was really fortunate that you were there,” the duke repeated.

“Yes, indeed, Eldara,” Wolfram said without much enthusiasm but feeling obliged to show that he was on first name basis with the duke. So they were still going on about that attack. Oh, gods, so boring.

“Wolfram said he was going to invite you for a ride in the park,” Eldara said to Halea. “Why don’t all three of you go together? The weather should be perfect for a ride.”

“Oh, yes, it would be amazing,” Wolfram said. “Why don’t you join us as well?” he asked Eldara, taking a bite. If he had to suffer this farce then why not drag the duke into this?

“I would be delighted to, but I’m afraid I’m extremely busy tomorrow.”

“What a pity,” Wolfram said, glaring at his pate.

“Yes, indeed.”

Athara was first to rise from the table and wish everyone goodnight. Then Halea and von Sarda followed, leaving Wolfram and the duke alone at the table.

“You know,” Wolfram said, “I wish you would warn me about these ideas of mine _beforehand_.”

“It’s just a ride in a park, Wolfram.”

“You forget that my suite is arriving tomorrow.”

“They will need some time to settle in, so you will be free.”

Wolfram gave him a skeptical look but didn’t protest. He nodded. “Maybe so, but your plan is still not foolproof, as you forgot the fact that currently I’m very sensitive to physical activities.”

“Damn.”

Surprised, Wolfram laughed out loud. It was probably the first time he had heard the duke curse. Wolfram shrugged. “Well, I don’t really mind. It’s all for the best: von Sarda will immediately want to show off how good he is and he’ll start galloping around. He will be so good in comparison to me that his ego will inflate to infinity, and he will be euphoric. In turn, he will believe that it is Halea who makes him feel so and will fall for her even more.”

The duke was gazing at him thoughtfully, and Wolfram suddenly knew what he wanted to ask: How come it hadn’t worked out with your king if you’re so clever? It was good that Eldara didn’t open his mouth.

\---

Fredrick von Sarda appeared to be a much more considerate man than what Wolfram had given him credit for. He didn’t do any of the things Wolfram had imagined he would do. Wolfram, just as it had been expected, was riding at a turtle’s pace, but von Sarda kept the same pace as him. Wolfram believed that he had had some time to think during the night and he had had some kind of revelation; he seemed to be much more coolheaded than yesterday. Or maybe he had simply been tired out by his journey from Small Cimaron; it was a long way and it was obvious that he had left as soon as he had heard what happened to Halea. If he really was that concerned (and it seemed that he was), Wolfram felt that his – mainly the duke’s – interference was completely redundant and maybe even a hindrance, as it was obvious that Halea took a fancy to von Sarda.

Halea rode between Wolfram and von Sarda. Von Sarda was painfully polite, asking Wolfram how he felt every few minutes. Every time he asked, the blond was compelled to nod gratefully and say that he indeed felt fine and thank him for asking. It seemed that von Sarda had wisely chosen to go for the image of a very caring person instead of promoting his physical advantages. It was a very sensible alternative, as, however you take it, Wolfram had already set the records in strength and bravery as Halea’s savior – it was impossible to beat that. Von Sarda seemed to be a realist.

Fortunately, the weather, as the duke had promised the day before, was good. It was quite cold, but there was no wind and the sun offered its bleak autumn rays. They hardly brought warmth but at least they gave the illusion of warmth.

“How do you feel?” von Sarda asked for the fifth time, and Wolfram felt the urge to smack him. He felt like a third wheel. In fact, Von Sarda and Halea had much more in common than he and Halea. Their conversation just flowed naturally while he just uttered a comment here or there. At the same time, Wolfram was aware that it was probably because von Sarda’s interest had an ulterior motive. All the times Wolfram had talked to Halea, it was just for the sake of talking and not for the sake of ending up in one bed with her. For that, though, von Sarda needed to get a ring on her finger.

Wolfram wondered if von Sarda’s intentions were serious. He might just be testing waters. Nonetheless, testing was, most likely, out of the question: when it came to the Duke of Raizgad’s sister, one had to be serious. Fredrick von Sarda didn’t seem to be so foolish so as not to know that and risk incurring his wrath.

Wolfram also wondered if von Sarda knew that Halea had Demon’s blood in her veins. He probably did – he must have checked her background thoroughly. Von Sarda probably wasn’t worried about that – he was a Human coming from Small Cimaron where the population – due to Yuuri’s influence – was already very tolerant of Demons.

“Do you feel alright?” von Sarda asked, turning his head to Wolfram.

Wolfram groaned mentally.

\---

When they returned from the park, Wolfram was informed that his suite had already arrived. Indeed, no sooner had he taken his gloves and coat off than he saw Yozak saluting him.

“Your Highness, Yozak Gurrier, the captain of your bodyguard team, is at your service.”

Wolfram nodded. “At ease. It’s great to see you, Yozak. Where’s the rest of the team?”

“They’re having brunch, Sir.”

“Ah, I see the captain has already found you,” Eldara said, entering the corridor. His attention went to Yozak. “Is everything to your liking?”

“Yes, Your Grace. Everything’s perfect. Thank you very much for your hospitality.”

“You are very welcome.” Eldara turned to Wolfram. “I hope you don’t mind my being so forward and inviting them for a meal?”

Wolfram shrugged. “What’s there to mind? Thank you. I’ll make sure they pay for their meals.”

“Oh, there’s no need for that. They’re guests.”

“Don’t talk nonsense,” Wolfram said. “It’s twelve people and only the gods know when they’ll leave.” He turned to Yozak. “Have you settled in?”

“Yes, Sir. We…”

“I’m asking about you, Yozak. Have _you_ settled in? Of course you haven’t,” Wolfram said when Yozak shifted uneasily. He had been preoccupied ascertaining his men had everything they needed and also had used every free second to snoop around.

“Go and eat with everyone,” Wolfram ordered, walking over to the duke. “I’ll call for you later.”

Yozak saluted. “Yes, Sir!”

“How was the ride in the park?” the duke asked.

“If you ask me how I feel, I will hit you!” Wolfram threatened.

“What? Why? Was it that bad?”

“No, it’s just von Sarda. He annoyed the hell out of me.”

“Why?”

Saluting, Yozak stared at Wolfram’s and the duke’s receding backs. He lowered his arm slowly. Only now did he allow the shock to appear on his face. Wolfram’s short hair and his growth spur had caught him completely off guard. Another thing he had not predicted was that Wolfram would be on such friendly terms with the Duke of Raizgad. This didn’t bode well.

\---

“His Majesty is very concerned about your wellbeing,” Yozak said when Wolfram finished reading the letters he had brought with himself. He watched the blond fold Yuuri’s letter and put it back into its envelope. 

“Oh? And it seems to me that he’s jolly optimistic,” Wolfram said, pushing his chair away from the table and standing up. He walked over to the luggage which had been brought to his room earlier. “Telling me I should go outdoors, into fresh air more often because he heard that autumns are beautiful in Kardera…”

“Well, they are, aren’t they?” Yozak, who had been given permission to speak freely and was going to use it to the fullest, said. He grinned innocently when Wolfram turned around to give him a look. 

“He also wrote that his horse is dead again but he’s looking forward to getting a new one.”

From where he was sitting at the table, Yozak regarded the blond’s back with a wary expression on his face. Apart from his looks, there was something else that was different about the younger male. Yozak couldn’t grasp or name it, but there was something unmistakably different about his behavior.

Wolfram opened the biggest trunk to find a stack of blue, neatly folded uniforms. Excited, he pulled out one set of the familiar clothes and couldn’t help staring. It was as if he had met a long-lost friend. The uniform even smelled of home. Wolfram suddenly felt so moved that he started tearing up. He was more homesick than he had thought he was.

Wolfram straightened and took the uniform with him towards the bed where he dropped it. “Turn away,” he ordered, before starting unbuttoning his jacket. At last, he had his own clothes to wear.

Yozak complied. He listened to the soft rustling of clothing then silence followed. It persisted for quite a while and Yozak took a risk of turning around. The blond had the uniform on, but there was a very puzzled expression on his face. He extended his arms, and Yozak could see how tight and constricted the jacket was around the blond’s shoulders. Buttoning the jacket was out of question – the buttons would probably shoot off the jacket as soon as Wolfram tried to move around. The sleeves didn’t cover his wrists either. Yozak dropped his eyes to Wolfram’s trousers and was met by a very similar sight there – they were tight, the upper button was still undone and they were too short, above the blond’s ankles.

“You brought wrong size,” Wolfram said, his voice not angry yet, but there was a potential of slipping into anger. For now, he was just perplexed.

Yozak’s eyes rose to the blond’s face. It seemed that Wolfram was completely oblivious to how his body had changed. The difference that mere three months had brought was astounding. In fact, this should have happened long ago. When Wolfram had reached twenty, he had still looked boyish, even waif-like. Now, he finally looked like a grown man. It was only that the change had occurred unbelievably fast. However, even if startling, these kinds of growth spurts were not uncommon amongst full-blooded Demons.

“It’s been taken from your wardrobe.”

Wolfram gave him a confused look then Yozak could see horror starting to spread over the blond’s face. Yozak became confused as well and then the understanding dawned on him. Shaking his head, Yozak waved his hands in front of him.

“Oh, no, it’s n-”

“Fat?! Did I get fat?!” Wolfram gasped out in horror. Stumbling on his way, he rushed over to the wardrobe and tore the door open to look at the mirror on the other side of the door. His eyes flitted frantically over his reflection. He didn’t look fat. There was hardly an ounce of fat on his body and he was in a pretty good shape, nothing flabby or lulling on him, the muscles toned and…

“Oh,” Wolfram said, relief flooding his voice. “I have just grown a little bit, haven’t I?”

Yozak gave him a skeptical look. “I think ‘a little’ is an understatement. There’s a difference of two or three sizes. You seriously haven’t noticed that?”

Wolfram stared at himself in the mirror. “Well…no. Honestly, it has never occurred to me.”

Yozak followed the blond’s gaze towards the clothes he had been wearing previously. He guessed that they belonged either to the duke or his brother. “But while in the service you must have noticed you were growing out of your uniform…”

“Mm… Yes, that might be it. When I came to the fort I was issued the same uniform as everyone else and it was bigger than I was used to. But then it got torn when I fell off the horse and into the bushes and then rolled down a slope. Then I was issued a new one. It might have been even bigger in size. Oh. So that’s what happened,” Wolfram said, taking a look at himself in the mirror. Now it occurred to him that when he and the duke had talked for the first time, Eldara had been serious about offering him his clothes. When he looked at himself more carefully, there probably wasn’t that much difference between his and the duke’s builds now.

“And to think that you used to be so obsessive about your looks…”

Wolfram shot him a glance, but it wasn’t an angry one. “I still am,” he said, returning to the trunk. “I just… I suppose everything will be too small now…” he drawled, looking at the clothes inside it. He lifted his arm to rub the back of his head, and he and Yozak started at the loud sound of his jacket tearing. Now there was a gaping hole in his armpit. Wolfram resigned and lowered his arm back to his side. “Oh, well. I guess I will have to go and ask Eldara for his tailor. And I hoped I would manage to avoid this…”

“You’re on first name basis with the duke?”

“Turn away. He told me to call him by his name.”

Wolfram peeled the uniform off himself and, only in a shirt, squatted down next to another trunk to search though it. 

“He’s much older than you…” Yozak said thoughtfully.

“Eleven years is nothing exceptional for a half-Demon. Besides, it seems they aren’t conservative about the age difference so much in Raizgad.”

Yozak was surprised. “So you know they are half-Demons?”

Wolfram nodded. He stopped sorting through his underwear then pulled one out and stretched it with both hands. Would have to do. Most of others would probably be too small. Just as he had thought, there was hardly anything he could wear now. 

“Did you bring me a replacement for my sword?”

“Yes, we did,” Yozak said. “It’s in that chest.” He turned around to point at it with his hand. Wolfram was holding black underwear in his hands, stretching, letting it go and then stretching it again absentmindedly. Yozak cocked his head to his shoulder at the sight. “You will tear it.”

“What? Oh.” Wolfram dropped the underwear back into the trunk. 

“The sword is in there,” Yozak repeated, trying not to stare at the half-naked blond. “I’m surprised we weren’t ordered to disarm.”

“Why would you be?” Wolfram said, walking over to the chest Yozak had pointed. “I represent the King of Shin Makoku and you are my suite. To disarm you by force would be a serious breach in protocol.”

“He could have refused to accept us.”

“Yes, he could have. But I can’t imagine him doing that.” After opening the chest, Wolfram pulled the sword out. “In that case, Eldara would have needed to send me to his king, who wouldn’t have been very pleased about the hassle.” Wolfram pulled the sword out of its sheath with a long-practiced ease. It felt good to feel the familiar weight in his hand, the sense of security making itself present at once. Yet, due to the scratches on his palm which still pained him, he couldn’t grip the hilt firmly.

“Keep in mind that I am useless with a sword now,” Wolfram warned Yozak. “I have problems with using my fire element as well.” He raised his head to see the older man’s eyes fixed on him. “Stop staring. I told you to turn away.”

Yozak complied, turning his head away slowly. “Just dress,” he muttered. The sight of the half-naked blond with a drawn sword was arousing as much as it was disturbing. “What’s wrong with your fire element?”

“I can summon it but I get dizzy later. Obviously, this is the side-effect of the concussion,” Wolfram explained. “Something doesn’t work properly. Should pass in a while.”

Yozak nodded. “I will keep that in mind.” He heard a soft jingle of metal, which indicated that Wolfram had sheathed the sword. “Do you know what the duke promised Orinth the Fifth?” he asked. 

“Why do you ask? Does it have anything to do with me?”

“Yeah, quite a lot, in fact. He said he was planning to get his sister married to you.”

Wolfram found himself grinning widely, “Oh, did he? What else did he say?” he asked curiously while slipping Athara’s trousers on.

Yozak turned his head to give the blond a searching look. “And this doesn’t bother you at all because…?”

Wolfram laughed softly. “Because it’s a good idea. It would finally create a bridge between Kardera and Shin Makoku. Besides, I don’t think Eldara had many choices in the matter. It was either that or Orinth the Fifth would have started to interfere with my stay here. And Eldara doesn’t like it when people interfere.”

“Wolfram,” Yozak drawled carefully. “Are you seriously thinking about marrying Halea von Ashira?”

“Oh, gods, no!” Wolfram laughed. “I only recently figured out that Eldara is indeed thinking something along those lines. Well, hopefully von Sarda will diffuse the situation.”

Yozak watched the blond putting on the borrowed jacket he took off earlier. His gaze slid off Wolfram to take in the room. It was a splendid room, warm, comfortable, fully equipped with stylish furniture and a sturdy door. Gwendal had been worried about the duke mistreating Wolfram. In a way he was, but it seemed that Wolfram was amused by it instead of being worried or subdued. 

“He has you wrapped around his little finger.”

“Has he?” Wolfram said, walking over to another trunk to open it.

“You have no idea who you are dealing with,” Yozak said seriously. “The man is one of Orinth the Fifth’s favorites. Von Ashira is manipulative and ruthless. He’s a notorious figure even behind Kardera’s borders.”

“Really?” Wolfram sounded unimpressed. He dug around in the trunk. He found his boots and pulled them out to try them on.

“Wolfram, do you hear what I’m saying?” Yozak said through gritted teeth. “In the Battle of Derington, Eldara von Ashira fought at his father’s side. He watched his father die, took over the command and led his men into victory. This and other things… He became a duke at the age of fifteen, Wolfram. There was a lot of commotion about him taking over after his father at such a young age. No one could stand up to him, though. In addition, Orinth the Fifth was on his side. He’s not someone you want to take lightly.”

“I’m not taking him lightly, Yozak,” Wolfram said, trying to pull his left boot off his foot. “Damn it!” he growled at the boot when it didn’t even budge. “On the contrary, I am perfectly aware of how cunning he is.” He huffed in relief when he finally managed to take the boot off. He chucked it back into the trunk. Too small. Then he turned around to look at Yozak. “But really? At the age of fifteen?”

“After von Ashira’s remarkable performance in the battlefield,” Yozak said, “Orinth the Fifth supported every von Ashira’s move and didn’t give Raizgad away to the intended regent, his aunt. The duke’s father and Orinth the Fifth had been on very friendly terms, you see. I suspect Orinth the Fifth had interacted with his son quite frequently as well.”

“I have never seen Orinth the Fifth,” Wolfram said, opening another trunk, which was filled with cosmetics: shampoo, bars of varicolored soap, cologne, face powder, and other toiletries.

“He’s an old man of eighty,” Yozak said. “He inherited the throne after his father’s death.”

“Is he Human?”

Yozak gave Wolfram a surprised look. “Yes, of course, he is.” He faltered. “I mean he should… Shit. You don’t mean he’s…?”

Wolfram shrugged. “I wonder...”

Tbc


	15. Part 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Kyou Kara Maou! – It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I’m not making any money from writing it.  
> Warnings: yaoi (male x male), violence, swearing, angst, drama. Wolfram-centric, out of character, original character.  
> Summary: With Yuuri’s upcoming birthday, Wolfram makes his decision. Where will it lead him and what is to become of them? Should eventually be Yuuri x Wolfram.  
> A/N 1: Yuuri – 18 years old. Wolfram – 20. Eldara – 31. Halea – 20. Athara – 18.  
> A/N 2: Greta doesn’t exist.  
> A/N 3: European/American/Japanese standards all at once depending on the plot requirements.  
> A/N 4: A tendency to ignore the anime/manga and supplement the story with my own imagined facts.  
> A/N 5: Season III is not taken into consideration, except for the fact that Wolfram’s uncle exists.  
> A/N 6: The umlaut in Gunter’s name is a bother.

**Bloom**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Tia Integra

Part 15

Wolfram’s hand hovered indecisively over the letter on the nightstand, and then he dropped his arm back to his side without taking it. He turned over in the bed and snuggled his face into the pillow. He had reread the letter three times already, and that didn’t make its contents change. It was still about a dead horse and beautiful autumns in Kardera. Wolfram had expected more than that. He didn’t know what exactly, but really, something more than that. Damn Yuuri! Even though it was mostly official, in his letter, Gwendal had at least had the decency to ask how his health was. And the worst thing of all was that Wolfram had expected something from Yuuri at all.

For about half an hour, Wolfram rolled about in his bed, fruitlessly trying to fall asleep. Finally, he cursed, tossed the covers off him and got out of the bed. He summoned his fire element so as not to trip over the trunks scattered over the floor while he walked to his bathrobe. Once dressed, he lit an oil lamp and found a bottle of ink and a feather. Extinguishing his fire element, he sat down at the table in the middle of the room. He slapped Yuuri’s letter in front of him then turned it around.

_Dear Yuuri,_ he wrote on the other side.

_I am sad to hear Ernesta is dead, but do not worry – I am certain that she is in the horse heaven, living a healthy life, eating plenty of grass and exercising daily. I hope you have more luck with your next horse._   
_Yes, autumns in Kardera are beautiful, just as you said. It is a pity you are not here and cannot appreciate the sight. Why don’t you come here for a visit? I am certain the duke will be overjoyed to see you, just like the rest of Kardera’s population._   
_I am doing very well and my health is excellent, thank you for asking. I still cannot control my fire element or use my sword, but who cares? I guess I will not need to fight anyway as I have been told that the duke has promised Orinth the Fifth that he will have his sister marry me._

_Best wishes,_   
_Wolfram von Bielefeld_

_P.S. They make wonderful goose liver pate here. I will be sure to ask for the recipe and send it over._

Content, Wolfram put the feather down and blew on the letter to dry the ink. He folded the letter, capped the ink bottle and went to bed. As soon as his head hit the pillow, he was asleep.

\---

Standing in the middle of his room, Wolfram looked at twelve men saluting him. Just as expected, Gwendal had sent best amongst the best. Wolfram knew most of the soldiers. All of them had seen a battle or two.

“At ease,” Wolfram commanded. “I don’t know what Gwendal von Voltaire has told you, however, run his commands – the ones which concern my security – through the duke’s captain. Just so that there aren’t any misunderstandings as to who is responsible for what.” He had addressed Yozak but this was meant for all of his men.

Yozak saluted. “Yes, Sir!”

“Otherwise,” Wolfram continued, feeling foolish about explaining the self-explanatory things to seasoned soldiers, “you take orders only from me and your captain. You are not allowed to raise your sword or use your elements against the citizens of Raizgad unless defending me or yourselves.” Wolfram took in his soldiers again. “And don’t, I repeat, don’t go around provoking the duke’s men. If I hear that any of you has provoked a fight, I will send you straight back to Shin Makoku.” Wolfram straightened. “That’s all. If you see or hear something strange going on, inform your captain.”

“Yes, Sir!”

“Dismissed.” Wolfram waited for the soldiers to file out of the room. Absently, he glanced at the table. Then he checked again. And then he double-checked. 

“Yozak?” Wolfram asked the captain once the door was closed.

“Yes?”

“What happened to the letter?”

“What letter?”

“The one which was on the table this morning.” 

“Ah, the one addressed to His Majesty?”

“Yes, that one.”

“I told one of my men to give it to the messenger.”

“You what?” Wolfram’s face suddenly flushed such brilliant red that Yozak stepped back from the unexpectedness of it. 

“Was I not supposed to?”

Wolfram stood in front of Yozak to look the large man squarely in his eyes. “Did you really send it?”

“Oh, yes.” Yozak grinned at the red-faced man. “It was a masterpiece.”

“Oh, you…!” Wolfram growled, punching Yozak in the arm. 

“Ow! Ow!” Yozak yowled, jumping around, even though he had hardly felt the punch.

Wolfram gave him an annoyed look. “It was just something I wrote down on the spur of the moment, you idiot. And you just had to…” He shook his head, not finishing. Instead, he started rubbing at his forehead and then let out a frustrated sigh. He was going to die of shame. Or maybe Yuuri would not understand the sarcasm at all? But no, Yuuri wasn’t stupid, just naïve. And then he would wonder why he received a reply like that. Wonder and understand that Wolfram had wanted more affection.

“Maybe we can still get it back?” Wolfram said hopefully, walking toward the door.

“I told the messenger to hurry up.”

Wolfram was suddenly overtaken by an urge to strangle Yozak. Even though it would probably amuse Eldara to no end, getting into a fight with the captain of his bodyguards’ team would just be disgraceful. He could write one more letter. But what would he say? _‘Please, don’t read the first letter’?_ Or: ‘ _I was just kidding’_? Irritated, Wolfram waved his hands about as if to get rid of a particularly annoying fly. Whatever. Let him read it; even if it had only been an outlet for his frustration, it was real. He could already see Yuuri’s red face. Certainly, Gwendal would also want to read the letter in case there’s some essential information. Gwendal, given his nature, wouldn’t say a word, but Yuuri was going to see it all on his face.

\---

Comfortably leaning against the sofa, Wolfram listened to the sounds of music flowing from the piano Halea was playing. All of them, the duke and his siblings, and von Sarda, had just had dinner and were lounging in the music room. 

With satisfaction, the duke watched Wolfram reach out for the tray on the table and take another slice of bread with goose liver pate. He had noticed that the blond was particularly keen on it. Wolfram caught his eyes and gave him a questioning look. Then realization lit up his face, and with that, a light blush tinged his cheeks: he remembered how he had stuffed his face with the pate two days ago; since then, the pate was always present on the table.

“Is it to your liking?” the duke asked when, as if on cue, Wolfram continued to stare at him without moving.

Wolfram looked at the slice of bread in his hand. Well, it was not as if the duke couldn’t afford it. Wolfram’s teeth bit into the bread and pate. “Yes, it’s fantastic. Thank you very much.”

“My pleasure.”

“You would be a very expensive man to keep,” Athara commented, with a chuckle.

Wolfram’s head, together with the slice between his teeth, turned to stare at Athara. So did everyone else’s in the room. Chewing numbly, Wolfram saw how flustered the younger male became when he realized his intercultural faux pas. Wolfram figured that it was pretty common in Kardera, but he never had anyone say something like that to him. Besides, Athara did spend a few years in Shin Makoku.

“Even a king couldn’t afford to keep you after all,” Athara laughed, hoping to correct his mistake and lighten the mood. He froze at the irate look on the blond’s face.

Eldara could see that Wolfram was considering launching the tray of pate at his brother’s face. Any reference to his and his former fiancé’s relationship was taboo for the blond. And additionally, even if not intended, the remark insulted his pride.

“Athara, can you get the wine, please?” the duke asked.

Relieved and grateful for the distraction, Athara sprung to his feet. “Certainly,” he said, walking over to the cabinet near the window. “White or…?”

“Could you go and get the bottle of Lene Arden from my study?” Eldara asked, aware that the blond would require much more time to cool off than for Athara to reach the cabinet.

“Well, certainly,” Athara said, slipping out of the room as fast as he could. He was going to take his time coming back, though.

Von Sarda was obviously confused, his gaze now going alternately from Wolfram and, as the other party involved in the incident wasn’t available, to the duke and then to Wolfram again. He decided not to ask. Halea was either oblivious to them or decided to ignore them and simply continued playing the piano.

Wolfram’s attention returned to the slice in his fingers. He sank his teeth into it then chewed thoroughly.

“So you wouldn’t want your lover to spend too much money on you, would you?” Eldara said, when he thought it was safe to speak. 

Wolfram gave him a look. Eldara was correcting his brother’s lapse by putting the question in a different way. He needn’t have worried, though, as Wolfram anger had already started to simmer down.

“No, he wouldn’t need to shower me with gifts every day,” Wolfram said after a moment’s thought. Yuuri had never given him any presents. Unless he counted the bouquet of flowers he gave him on his nineteenth birthday, and even then the flowers had been picked by one of the maids. “I’m more interested in insubstantial things,” Wolfram said, and realized that he was covering for Yuuri’s behavior again; by this time it had developed into a habit. Without doubt, he would have liked for Yuuri to present him with something, anything, of his own volition just to show that he cared. 

Wolfram suddenly wished for Athara to hurry up with the wine.

Eldara wondered if Wolfram had noticed how readily he had used the pronoun “he”, making it clear which sex he preferred. The blond probably didn’t realize that, as, all of a sudden, for some reason, he seemed to have sunk into depression. And if he did notice, he was very good at hiding it. Von Sarda was not very adept at Shin Makoku’s dialects, and there was a chance it had slipped past his ears. Halea, though, not ceasing to softly press the piano keys, was curiously watching Wolfram.

Athara returned with a bottle of Lene Arden, and soon their glasses were filled. The wine was sweet, just how Wolfram liked it. Absently listening to the conversations floating around him, he set on methodically annihilating the tray of the pate. 

“Would you like to go for a walk, Wolfram?” the duke asked him after having watched von Sarda fill the blond’s glass again and again. If nobody stopped him, Wolfram was going to be sick. 

Turning his head to stare at the window, Wolfram appeared to wonder if the duke was in his right mind. “It’s nearly nine o’clock,” he said. “It’s dark and cold.”

“Some exercise is very useful for digestion,” Eldara insisted at the sight of the blond eyeing the bottle. “Besides, a gulp of fresh air is just what one needs before going to sleep.”

“Is it?” Wolfram drawled moodily, not showing any intention of moving from the sofa. “I think need a gulp of something else.” He held out his empty glass for von Sarda to fill. 

Von Sarda gave Eldara a perplexed look, and the duke shook his head discreetly.

“You should probably stop drinking already,” Halea said to Wolfram, aware that the men were just helplessly watching the blond getting drunk out of his head. They couldn’t say anything to Wolfram directly as, in the state he was in, the blond would just take it as a challenge or an attempt to patronize him. A word of caution from a woman worked in a different way.

“Why?” Wolfram asked sulkily. “I…”

“Because you will be sick later,” the duke interrupted him, before he could start babbling. Up until now, the blond had been drinking himself into depression in silence. However, if he started talking, only the gods knew what his drunken mind would throw up. It would have been fine if only him and his siblings were present, but von Sarda was not someone who Wolfram would want to disclose his secrets to.

Wolfram lowered his glass to the table noisily. He had an insulted air about him, and Eldara braced himself for a tirade. Wolfram stood up quickly, and then almost folded over to the table. Von Sarda, who was sitting closest to the blond, grabbed him and pulled him away and back onto the sofa.

“Here you go,” he said, helping Wolfram lean against the backrest. The blond appeared to be ridiculously surprised at how his body had been enslaved by gravity. His face turned more and more ashen by the second.

With a soft sigh, Eldara stood up. “And yet we will take that walk, Wolfram. Stand up,” he said, motioning for von Sarda to move aside.

“I don’t think he can walk…” Athara said doubtfully.

Eldara waved that off. “Oh, he can.” He held out his hand for Wolfram, who now gazed at it blankly. When Wolfram took no action, the duke wrapped his arm around the blond’s shoulders and simply tugged him up. Wolfram staggered, swayed, then gave in and leaned against the duke in order to keep his balance. Eldara started leading him towards the door. 

“Where are you taking him?” Athara asked.

“To the corridor. It should be cooler there. And then maybe we’ll need a visit to the bathroom,” the duke added, seeing how Wolfram’s face was still pale.

Once Eldara and Wolfram left the room, Yozak rushed towards them. He and two other men from Wolfram’s suite had been waiting outside the music room. Yozak wanted to be present in the music room, but Wolfram had deduced, and rightly so, that, chatting and drinking while surrounded by his guards, he would appear ridiculously paranoid.

“Your Highness! What happened?” Yozak was worried at the sight of Wolfram’s shaky steps and the duke’s arm around his shoulders. “Are you alright?” He grabbed at Wolfram’s arm.

“I’m fine,” Wolfram said, pushing Yozak away from him. “Let go of me!” he demanded, trying to pry his arm from Yozak’s grip, but the man didn’t let go.

Yozak frowned at the smell wafting from the blond; he was drunk. Then he saw the duke watching him with interest. Quickly, he retracted his hand from Wolfram.

“He’s alright. He just needs some fresh air,” Eldara said after noticing Yozak secretly give him a rather wary look. The man didn’t trust him one bit and was unwilling to leave the blond in his care. He probably believed that he had gotten Wolfram drunk on purpose. Since the very first minute he arrived at the castle, Yozak started playing the befitting role of an obsessed guard dog.

Eldara smiled politely, and, ignoring the captain, started leading Wolfram down the corridor. The sound of multiple footsteps behind his back indicated that Yozak and his men were following them. Wolfram was heavy and was staggering, which made it pretty difficult to steer him, and Eldara thought that he wouldn’t mind the captain helping him out. He hadn’t expected the blond to weigh so much. Wolfram looked deceptively light; he also looked smaller than he actually was. Already during the incident in the baths, Eldara noticed that he was one of those people who looked slender in clothing, and were buff without. Now, with good nourishing, the fact was even more obvious.

The blond had grown quite a lot since he had seen him last in Shin Makoku and was still growing. The proof was the clothes which Wolfram said didn’t fit him anymore. He got the impression that the blond had been oblivious to his sudden growth.

They reached the end of the corridor and then filed into the lobby. It was cooler here, and the duke made Wolfram lean on the windowsill next to the door leading outside. Wolfram closed his eyes and kept quiet, which indicated that he indeed didn’t feel very well.

“Do you need to go to the bathroom?” Eldara asked, when Wolfram’s face became a shade whiter.

Wolfram nodded quickly. He pushed himself off the windowsill and trudged in the direction of the bathroom. The lobby was spinning lightly but he was proud he was managing to walk on his own. He felt relieved when he turned left into the corridor leading to the bathroom, as the narrower space made his head spin less.

“No.” Eldara grabbed the blond’s shoulder and tugged him backwards, nearly making him topple over. He looked flustered when Wolfram gave him an astonished look. Removing his hand and smiling apologetically, the duke cleared his throat. “Wrong door.”

Wolfram turned his head to look at the door in front of him. Then he looked ahead in the corridor. He had confused the doors, but the duke’s reaction… “What’s in there?” Wolfram asked. Carefully, he turned around to face Eldara.

“My most prized collection.”

Wolfram looked at him with skeptical eyes, and the duke wondered how he could even think when he was so drunk; the youngster could hardly stand on his feet.

“Collection of what?” the blond asked.

“Of butterflies,” Eldara said. “Any stronger draft might shatter them to pieces.”

“Oh,” Wolfram exhaled, his shoulders sagging in disappointment. He turned to eye the door again. “I’d still like to see it.”

“Well, certainly,” the duke agreed. “But not today.”

Wolfram moved along the corridor and they reached the bathroom door. 

“Do you need help?” Eldara asked when the blond reached out for the door handle.

Grinning, Wolfram turned around. “I am certain that I can manage on my own, Your Grace,” he said.

Ignoring the mockery, Eldara nodded. Leaving the blond in his guards’ care, he turned around and headed back to the music room. In the music room, Halea had stopped playing the piano. She and von Sarda were conversing about seafaring. It seemed that Halea had mentioned that she had never been on a ship because sailors in Kardera were superstitious about women on board: they believed that women only brought bad luck, such as storms or a calm sea. Von Sarda had used this opportunity to invite Halea to his ship. This was obviously going to happen only in summer, which made it nearly half a year of wait, but Fredrick was most enthusiastic. This gesture at least showed that he expected his and Halea’s relationship last that long.

The thought about ships led Eldara into a contemplation of Wolfram’s journey home. The blond had admitted to him that he hated traveling by sea and everything that had anything to do with it. The journey home was going to be a torture as well. But nothing could be done, though, as, even if not so far away, Kardera and Shin Makoku were on two different continents.

Eldara stiffened. He suddenly had a hunch. The glasses on the table clattered when he caught a corner of it while jumping to his feet. Everyone’s eyes shot to him. 

“Wolfram! The vault!” Eldara spat quickly. He rushed out of the room as if his hair was on fire. After a few seconds of shock, Athara, who gasped and whose expression turned worried, rushed out after him.

Not ceasing to curse himself, the duke ran down the corridor, all the way across the lobby, and towards the vault. Just as he suspected, he saw the blond and his men standing at its door.

“Don’t open the door!” Eldara shouted, still running.

Wolfram turned around to offer him a sly grin of a drunken idiot. The guard who had tinkered with the lock moved away from the door allowing for Wolfram to pass and Wolfram reached out for the handle.

Eldara didn’t slow down even when Wolfram’s guards became nervous and stepped forward with the intention to bar his way. He rammed his elbow against the first guard’s chest, knocking him backwards and into the wall. His foot caught the second guard in the stomach, making him double over in a coughing fit. Eldara grabbed the blond’s waist and, kicking the door to the vault shut, rolled them away from the door.

Wolfram lay limp in his arms, and a pang of panic shot through Eldara’s stomach – had he knocked Wolfram’s head against the hard floor? Then the duke heard someone retching. He raised his head to see Yozak vomiting his dinner onto the carpet. Eldara felt relief flood through him.

“Call the nurse quickly, and send for the doctor!” he shouted when Athara ran into the corridor and skidded to a halt at the macabre sight in front of him.

The duke kneeled, then, while firmly holding the blond in his arms, stood up. “I will take him back to his room,” he said.

One of Wolfram’s guards was kneeling, holding his stomach, staring at Eldara while his hand was on the hilt of his sword. He was not certain what was going on. The second guard had already drawn his sword and blocked the duke’s way. To tell him to step aside would be unwise as Eldara had bodily attacked both of them, and their captain was down in seizures. They were staring at von Bielefeld in the duke’s arms.

The sound of running feet came from farther down the corridor and then Wolfram’s and Eldara’s guards showed up. The sight made them freeze on the spot and they thought nothing of Athara running past them. They let the youngest von Ashira through. Then, suddenly, the mixed mass of guards divided to two groups with drawn swords. They stared at each other threateningly, waiting for orders.

“It’s a case of Esoteric Stone poisoning,” Eldara said, aware that there was no other way to stop this other than explaining what happened. “Behind that door,” he said, motioning at the door with his head, “lies the biggest collection of Esoteric Stones in the world.” He started walking past one of Wolfram’s irresolute guard that barred his way. The guard was forced to lower his sword or risk cutting either his lord or the duke.

With his head, Eldara motioned at the convulsing Yozak on the floor and the guard he had kicked in the stomach. “Take care of them,” he said. “Muna, Ron, and you two,” he ordered, pointing at Wolfram’s two random guards, “come with me to His Highness’ chamber.” This way both sides should be assured.

\---

Eldara heard Wolfram sigh softly, and then the bed creaked when the blond turned to his right side. The doctor had said that von Bielefeld should recover quickly and with no lasting after-affects. The doctor wasn’t certain which would take longer – for the blond to sleep off the alcohol or for his body to recover from the shock.

Precisely, the sudden stupor Wolfram had experienced prevented him from receiving serious damage – the blond’s body simply shut down from receiving the enormous amount of raw energy (unlike Yozak, who still felt sick and trembled all over). Keeping in mind that the captain was a half-Demon, Eldara hadn’t expected the Esoteric Stones to affect him so much. However, it was hard to tell with half-Demons: sometimes they didn’t react to Esoteric Stones; sometimes they reacted just as strongly as full-blooded Demons; and sometimes they said that they had various allergic reactions such as rashes or sneezing.

Wolfram sighed one more time and it vibrated throughout the room, which made Eldara shake his head. The saying “curiosity killed the cat” was most fitting here. He should have known that any attempt to hide anything would pique the blond’s curiosity and suspicion. Maybe if he hadn’t been drunk, he wouldn’t have tried to break into the vault; Wolfram had obviously thought of it as a joke and wanted to amuse himself.

Eldara had started collecting Esoteric Stones as soon as the war with Demons had ended. There had been hundreds of Esoteric weapons in various shapes and colors. Nearly every nation had its own way of fighting the Demons. In the beginning, Eldara was mostly driven by curiosity but later by an obsessive need of a collector. It had also been a challenge to think of a suitable way to store so much raw energy in a way it would not radiate through walls. He didn’t advertise his hobby, and there weren’t many people who knew about it. It was not something he wanted others to know about, especially not Demons.

Wolfram grunted again. Eldara stood up and pushed his chair back to the table it belonged to. He hoped that the blond was going to be fully functioning in the morning. The two of them had a visitor to meet.

Tbc


	16. Part 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Kyou Kara Maou! – It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I’m not making any money from writing it.  
> Warnings: yaoi (male x male), violence, swearing, angst, drama. Wolfram-centric, out of character, original character.  
> Summary: With Yuuri’s upcoming birthday, Wolfram makes his decision. Where will it lead him and what is to become of them? Should eventually be Yuuri x Wolfram.  
> A/N 1: Yuuri – 18 years old. Wolfram – 20. Eldara – 31. Halea – 20. Athara – 18.  
> A/N 2: Greta doesn’t exist.  
> A/N 3: European/American/Japanese standards all at once depending on the plot requirements.  
> A/N 4: A tendency to ignore the anime/manga and supplement the story with my own imagined facts.   
> A/N 5: Season III is not taken into consideration, except for the fact that Wolfram’s uncle exists.  
> A/N 6: The umlaut in Gunter’s name is a bother.

**Bloom**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Tia Integra

Part 16

When Wolfram opened his eyes, daylight had already flooded the room. For a few seconds, he lay completely still in the bed while trying to sort his thoughts out. There was chaos in his head. All he remembered were flashes of him eating pate, drinking and then…a door. 

Wolfram stiffened and sat up quickly. Groaning, he pressed his hands to his head, which threatened to explode. He had clearly overdone drinking wine. Wincing at the excruciating pain in his head, he stood up. His bloodshot eyes took in himself. He didn’t remember undressing. Neither did he remember returning to his room.

After dressing, the blond climbed downstairs. He was aware of intense looks the guards were giving him. He wondered why nobody was standing at his door. Only when he entered the lobby, he saw the reason: all of his guards were gathered there. One of his men rushed to him, saluting. He looked aghast.

“Your Highness, are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine.” The guard didn’t look relieved at all. “My head hurts,” Wolfram added, thinking that maybe it was because of his painfully screwed face. “What’s happening?” he asked, looking around.

Recognizing the voice, from amidst the men, the duke drifted out and headed towards the blond. “Did you have lunch?” he asked.

At the thought of food, Wolfram turned pale. He shook his head quickly. “I’m not hungry.”

The duke gave him an understanding look. “Alright, then. Let’s go to my study.” He turned his head to Wolfram’s guard. “Captain?”

“Yes, Your Grace. I will join you as well.”

Wolfram’s face grew confused. He looked at his guard first, then Eldara. “Captain? Where’s Yozak?”

“I will explain everything in the study.”

Despite feeling worried, Wolfram didn’t question any further and followed the duke. Once inside his study, Eldara lifted his cat off the chair that stood in front of his desk. Then he pushed one more chair towards it, offering his guests to sit down.

“Yozak Gurrier is still recovering from radiation from Esoteric Stones,” he started when Wolfram sat down. “The doctor says he should recover in a few days. Fajdal holds the highest rank after Gurrier, therefore, he took over Gurrier’s duties.”

Wolfram turned to Fajdal, who nodded, confirming Eldara’s words. Lost, the blond stared at his subordinate’s face then turned to Eldara. “What Esoteric Stones?”

The duke gave Wolfram a sharp smile. “I see.” He lowered his hands onto the desk and laced his fingers together. “You got drunk yesterday and broke into the Esoteric Stone vault.”

Wolfram blinked. He did remember a door he madly wanted to open back then, but what happened afterwards was a complete mystery to him. “Esoteric Stones?” he repeated numbly. “Why would I want to see Esoteric Stones?”

Eldara sighed, and Wolfram caught a flash of guilt reflect on the duke’s face. “It was because I lied that it was my butterfly collection,” he admitted. “You obviously didn’t believe me and wanted to see what was in there yourself. I didn’t expect you to go to such lengths.” He bowed his head lightly. “My mistake.”

Wolfram stared at him in disbelief. He still didn’t have much memory of yesterday. “What did I actually do? Kick the door down?”

“No. You ordered one of your men to disassemble the lock for you.”

Wolfram shifted in his chair uncomfortably and gave the duke an awkward look. “Did I really do that?”

“Yes,” Eldara confirmed. “I suppose it was your idea of a joke.”

Wolfram cleared his throat. “Alright. So I got into the vault. What happened then?”

“No, you didn’t get into the vault. I got there just in time - you opened the door no more than a crack.” Eldara drummed with his fingers against the surface of the desk. “I had to get past your men, though. Luckily, no one’s seriously injured.”

Now, Wolfram’s face was filled with horror. “Did I order them to attack you? Oh, gods! I don’t remember any of this!”

The duke sighed. “No, you didn’t order them to attack me. I would say you weren’t even aware of what was going on around you. I was just… There was no time, and I probably looked threatening while barreling down the corridor, so they tried to block my way.”

Listening, Wolfram watched him closely. “I don’t understand,” he said when the duke finished talking. “So if no one entered the vault… How come Yozak is ill?”

Eldara could see that the blond was losing his patience. Something serious had happened, which he had no memory of. Now he was left without his captain, he didn’t know how Gurrier was doing either and his head was obviously bursting with either a hangover or after-effects of Esoteric Stones or both. Considering all this, Wolfram must feel a great deal insecure.

“You opened the door and that was enough.” 

“What do you mean I opened the door and that was enough? That’s…!”

“Wolfram, calm down,” Eldara interrupted him softly. “There’s a reason I didn’t want you to enter the vault. There are over four thousand Esoteric Stones in there. You lost your consciousness, while your captain…” Wolfram suddenly looked pale and sick, and he wondered if he should continue or call for a nurse.

“Why?” Wolfram muttered, still in shock. “Why would you keep something like this? It’s…” He trailed off with a shudder.

Eldara watched him with something akin to curiosity and understanding on his face. It was easy to read how disgusted Wolfram was. The duke had used a lot of Esoteric Stones in his life and had seen how they affect Demons or half-Demons. There were many different kinds of Esoteric Stones, but they all had similar effects on Demons. In close proximity, Esoteric Stones caused them to lose their contact with elements, then their strength and, lastly, made them so violently ill that they could barely move. He had seen Demons trying to scratch holes into their skin with their nails where an Esoteric Stone had touched them. He had read reports maintaining that this kind of reaction was caused by the feeling of their skin being on fire. It was no wonder Wolfram looked as if he was going to vomit on his precious carpet at any given moment.

“I assure you that this is solely a collector’s interest.”

Wolfram laughed loudly then groaned softly at the pang it caused in his head. He suddenly realized what Yozak had been trying to tell him. The duke had lulled him to sleep, made him feel secure, at home even. In fact, he hardly knew anything about the man.

“It’s not a collector’s interest,” Wolfram said quietly, staring Eldara in the face. “It’s an armory filled with weapons against Demons. You can equip two armies with that amount of Esoteric Stones.”

“Yes, if the need arises, I will.” As soon as those words left the duke’s mouth, he could see the blond’s hands clench into fists at his sides.

“Do you really hate us so much?”

“This is the second time you have asked me this, Wolfram. It seems you have a short memory. I don’t particularly like Demons, that’s true, but wars, usually, don’t start only because of that. Wars start because your neighbor has more land and is richer than you.”

“You make me sick. You literally make me sick.”

“Sir…” Fajdal’s hand rose tentatively to Wolfram’s arm. His lord had stopped thinking clearly and this had become a dangerous situation. He retracted his hand when the blond smacked at it vehemently.

Eldara’s eyes hardened. “How is it different from any other weapon storage?”

“The specifics of it! So you admit that it is a weapon storage! You…” 

“Contain your emotions, Wolfram,” Eldara warned. “Some people collect bows, others daggers. I collect Esoteric Stones.”

“Why?” Wolfram snapped. “Why Esoteric Stones?”

The duke shrugged. “Maybe because they sparkle so prettily?” He sighed. Wolfram was being overly dramatic. The blond was nearing hysteria and it reminded Eldara of the scene in the baths when he first arrived to the castle. He had to defuse the situation, or the blond was going to do something stupid again. 

“I like them, so I collect them,” he said. “Indeed, I am aware that it is a powerful weapon. It is a part of why they appeal to me. But anyone collecting any other kind of weapons would say the same.”

Wolfram sat in his chair and glared at Eldara with disgust and anger.

“Wolfram, have no fear. I will not use any Esoteric Stones on you or your suite. However, I can’t assure your safety if you decide to break in again.”

Wolfram blushed, and Eldara could guess that it was both from anger and embarrassment. He rather wished the blond would leave his study and go drink a cup of nice hot tea.

“I’m not afraid!” Wolfram shot back. “And…” He was suddenly aware of the patient look the duke was giving him. He just sat there with his hands folded together on the desk, and watched him with a face filled with all the patience of the world. This suddenly made Wolfram feel even more irate but very foolish at the same time, which, in fact, was the largest source of anger in itself. It didn’t matter what he would tell the duke – they would not find common grounds concerning the collection. It was pointless to argue.

“How did you manage to isolate them, in any case?” Wolfram asked after a long pause, during which he had managed to suppress his discontentment.

Eldara wondered which fact had aggravated the blond more: the fact that he collected something so dangerous to Demons or the fact that he had never told Wolfram about it. He was inclined to think that it was the latter – Wolfram believed that he had abused his trust.

“Clay,” the duke said. “The walls are covered with a thick layer of clay.”

“Oh,” both Wolfram and Fajdal said at the same time. It was so simple, indeed. Humans sometimes used boxes made of clay to transport Esoteric Stones without Demons noticing.

“Are there any windows?”

“No. The vault is accessible only through that door in the corridor.”

Wolfram’s lips twitched but he stayed silent. Unless a twit of a guest like him decided to take a look at the vault, it was safe inside the castle – one needed an army to get in between the walls. 

Seeing how Wolfram was at a loss as to what to say, the duke decided that with that the topic was closed.

“The Duke of Arklend and the Baron of Elkia will be here in two hours,” he said.

Wolfram had forgotten them and it was visible on his face. “That’s right…” he drawled. “How does Verinas feel?”

“Quite vengeful,” Eldara answered. “And if you are asking about his health, he is healing pretty well; the swelling went down and he can already see.”

The blue and black face resurfaced in Wolfram’s memory, and he frowned, as it was accompanied by Verinas’s unforgettable pain-filled howls. Wolfram was again reminded of Eldara’s coldblooded nature.

The blond gave Eldara a questioning look. “Who will the duke see first, you or Verinas?”

“The protocol demands him to see me first.”

Wolfram nodded. Von Ashira and von Sedera Houses generally were of the same status. Von Sedera would not dare to breach the etiquette and undermine his own position. 

Then the blond noticed Eldara’s questioning eyes. “Yes, I will be there,” he said. However, Wolfram knew that now – after their short but dire clash of opinions – Eldara wasn’t certain if his presence was a good or a bad thing. He could confirm Eldara’s words but he could just as easily deny them. And, in fact, at the moment Wolfram was rather overtaken by spite.

\---

Lennon Barista of Elkia was not how Wolfram had imagined him. For some reason he had expected the baron to be an angry, short man with a red face. In fact, he was a very tall man, about sixty years old. He indeed was angry, but his face was white with suppressed rage. His wide eyebrows twitched and he constantly touched the bridge of his nose. His thin lips were mostly pressed into an even thinner dash.

Neryan von Sedera, the Duke of Arklend, was more or less how Wolfram had imagined him: he was a little younger (in his mid-forties), though, and had a youthful gait and demeanor. It was hard to discern his opinion about what happened: when he talked, his face remained unchanged and his voice was free of emotion. He was either indifferent, or just as furious as the baron.

Neryan wore his light blond hair short. His gray, penetrating eyes flitted around, taking in every tiny detail. The duke wore a blue jacket which was simple but elegant, complimenting his good build. He was already gaining weight, though. If he undertook no measures, he was going to be fat in a couple of years. 

The four of them (von Ashira, von Sedera, von Bielefeld, and Barista) were sitting at a long, oval table in the meeting room, where official visits were arranged. Barista and von Sedera sat at one end of it while Eldara was on the opposite end. Wolfram had taken a neutral position and was sitting at its side, in between them, next to a large window. It was darkening and oil lamps were standing on the oval desk.

Two guards were standing at the door, and Wolfram wasn’t certain why they were needed. Most likely it was to create an illusion of security and to prevent heated outbursts. However, Wolfram doubted its effectiveness. Personally, he tended to ignore guards.

The traditional pleasantries had already been exchanged and now both sides were ready to tackle the problem. They agreed to use the Demon language so that Wolfram wouldn’t need his interpreter and would be able to take part in the conversation without any delay.

“Your Grace,” von Sedera started, folding his hands over the desk, his body leaning forward. “I would like an explanation as to what happened.”

Eldara nodded. “Of course, Your Grace. Where would you like me to start?”

Von Sedera grunted impatiently. “From the very start, of course.”

Eldara inclined his head again. “Four days ago His Highness Wolfram von Bielefeld and I went for a ride in the town. Deeper into the town we heard calls for help and, naturally, decided to take a look at what was happening there. It was your son,” Eldara said, nodding at Barista. “He and his bodyguard had been attacked by three townspeople who held a grudge against him.”

Neither the duke nor Barista asked what the nature of the grudge was, and Eldara continued: “My men fended the three brothers off and arrested them. Seeing how the townspeople were discontent with Verinas Baristas’ presence, I offered for him to stay at my castle, and he agreed. Unfortunately, at night, the same three brothers escaped from the dungeon, neutralized the guards, and broke into Barista’s room. They beat him nearly to death and escaped the castle and then the town. The search parties are looking for them.”

Von Sedera’s eyebrows rose. “And the search gave no results, you mean?”

Eldara appeared to squirm uncomfortably under Neryan’s gray distrusting gaze. “Yes, I am afraid they are still on the loose.”

The duke pursed his lips in distaste. “I see. I must tell you, Your Grace, that the security of your house is appalling. Not only did they manage to escape from the dungeon but were also freely wandering in the halls of your castle.”

“Yes, you are absolutely, right, Your Grace,” Eldara said, taking the reproach as deserved. “This is indeed unforgivable and I have already dealt with the people responsible.”

“Is that so?” Von Sedera didn’t appear to be convinced. “Let’s leave that for later discussion. In fact, the Baron of Elkia has presented me with very serious accusations concerning you. He claims that the prisoners have been released under your orders.”

Eldara’s face was frozen in shock. “You can’t be serious!” He turned to Barista. “Why would you think that, Sir? What would I gain from that?”

The baron stared at von Ashira without even blinking. “Your Grace,” he said. “My son has been slandered. I am afraid that Your Grace also fell victim to that deceitful slander.”

“In other words,” von Sedera said, “sir Barista believes that you might have been motivated to take the side of your people and take the retribution in your hands.”

Eldara shook his head. “I assure you, Your Grace, such ideas have never crossed my mind.”

Von Sedera was skeptical. He turned his head to look at von Bielefeld. “Is there anything His Highness would want to say?”

Wolfram nodded. “Yes, Your Grace. I must say that I don’t understand how one could abuse hospitality to such a level! The Duke of Raizgad has been kind enough to offer him a stay at his home. Certainly, it was bad luck for those lowlifes to escape, but to be accused of having arranged it is just like a slap in the face.”

Wolfram was a bad liar. And, again, Eldara was convinced of that when the blonds’ face turned crimson. However, if one didn’t know Wolfram, they could easily take his red face and shaky voice for expressive indignation.

Curiously, von Sedera studied Wolfram for a few seconds then smiled humorlessly. “I am not so certain you can be neutral in this case. Your Highness, there are serious rumors about the duke’s plans to Your Highness and Lady Halea von Ashira’s wedding.”

Wolfram chuckled loudly, surprised. “Well, they are his plans not mine.”

The Duke of Arklend grinned. He gave Eldara a look then turned his attention back to Wolfram. He nodded, accepting his words. “Your Grace,” he said, still gazing at Wolfram, “do you still maintain the fact that you had nothing to do with the runaway prisoners?”

“Your Grace,” Eldara said disbelieving, “would I lie in the presence of the Royal Emissary?”

Wolfram’s lips twitched and eyes widened. This was such a shameless lie of a bastard that he could only stare.

Von Sedera didn’t seem to be convinced in the least by von Ashira’s claims. “Yet, I demand that the culprits of your laughable security be punished, Your Grace.”

“Certainly, Your Grace,” Eldara agreed. “As said, I have already dismissed the guards who were on duty that night. I have not dealt with the captain yet, though.” He raised his hand when the baron opened his mouth with an intention to voice his comments. “Let me finish, Sir. It was because I was certain you would like to witness his punishment.”

Von Sedera inclined his head. “Of course, Your Grace.”

Eldara turned to the door where the guards stood. “Get Kailan here.”

“Of course, Your Grace.”

While all of them waited for the guards to get the captain, Eldara and Wolfram were subjected to the duke’s and baron’s judging stares. Von Ashira kept smiling politely while Wolfram caught himself tapping his fingers on the desk. Embarrassed, he stilled them. He was uneasy thinking what was going to happen now. It was obvious that neither von Sedera nor Barista believed them. He didn’t know either what Eldara was going to do with the captain, who had simply carried out the duke’s orders.

Wolfram started when there was a loud knock on the door and it opened, letting two soldiers in. A little uncertain, but trying not to show his confusion, Wolfram watched his former bodyguard approach the long oval desk. The man saluted.

Eldara rose to his feet, his whole demeanor suddenly becoming intimidating. “Captain,” he said. “You are here because of the poor job you did the night when Barista Verinas, one of my most honorable guests, was attacked. These men,” von Ashira motioned at the baron and the duke, “demand justice. So do I.”

Speechless, the guard stared at von Ashira. “B-but… I’m r-r…” he stuttered.

Eldara’s eyes flashed. “Silence!” he growled, gritting his teeth. “Don’t even try to weasel your way out!”

The guard’s face was pale. He was still saluting, but his hand was shaking visibly. He was obviously terrified, staring at his lord with confused eyes.

“You are reduced to a private, without any possibility of advancement in ranks.”

The guard was completely quiet, and Wolfram thought that he wouldn’t be surprised if he fainted. However, he finally seemed to understand what was happening and recovered quickly, squaring his shoulders.

“Yes, Your Grace!”

Eldara turned to look at the baron and the duke. The baron’s grim face, though, clearly expressed that he thought that the punishment was too mild. Von Sedera, though, was nodding contently. He was a man who knew how important career was to a soldier. Eldara had practically deprived him of sense in life.

“Yes, Your Grace, this is an appropriate punishment.”

Eldara nodded and turned back to the guard. “Dismissed.” When the guard left, he sat down. “Would you like to see you son, Sir?” he asked Barista.

Understanding that this was the end of it, the baron nodded. “Yes, Your Grace. Could one of your men show me the way?”

“Well, certainly.”

Wolfram watched Barista and one of the guards leave. He didn’t know what to think of this. It was so absurd that he wanted to laugh, and, at the same time, he couldn’t believe neither von Sedera nor Barista had understood. 

Wolfram suddenly noticed von Sedera was looking at him. He offered the man a smile, which was returned by a hardly visible twitch of the duke’s lips.

“Your Highness,” von Sedera said, “would you mind leaving me and His Grace to have a word one-on-one?”

Wolfram gave von Ashira an askance look, which was answered with a hardly discernible nod. So this was when the real admonishment was going to take place. And he was not even allowed to take part. Well, certainly, Eldara wouldn’t want him to see him being told off – very likely he believed that it would damage his image for ever.

“Yes, of course, Your Grace.”

The dukes watched von Bielefeld stand up, cross the hall, and then close the door softly. Von Sedera leaned back into his chair and settled comfortably.

“You too,” Eldara said to the guard at the door. “Leave us.”

“Eldara, if I remember correctly,” said von Sedera when he and von Ashira were left alone, “Karela Ine is the captain of your guards.”

“He indeed is,” Eldara confirmed. “You have always had a sharp memory.”

“So who is the one who you just yelled at?”

“Just a private. I hired him just recently. He is good, though. I had him look after von Bielefeld.”

Neryan gave Eldara a searching look. “I can’t believe you made von Bielefeld lie for you.”

“Yes, I am amazed as well. I half-expected him to give me away.”

“Hmm? Why?”

“Today we had a small argument concerning my collection of Esoteric Stones, and Wolfram is quite temperamental. Vindictive as well.”

“How does he know that you have them at all?”

“He broke into the vault.” Von Sedera gave him a disbelieving look, and Eldara nodded. “He was drunk at the time. Luckily, nothing serious happened to him. One of his men had severe poisoning, though.”

“I see. So that’s why von Bielefeld didn’t look so well,” he said, smiling. “He sounds like a very strong-willed creature.” He nodded, approving. “This time you have found someone fun for a change.”

Eldara was taken aback slightly. He shook his head. “Oh, no. We aren’t together.”

Von Sedera was surprised. “Is that right? But he’s exactly your type: a challenge, well-built. Not to mention that he’s the most handsome man I have ever seen in years; anyone would snatch him on sight.”

Von Ashira pursed his lips in distaste. “You forget that he’s obviously too young for me. Just a child of twenty.”

“Nonsense. He is a full-blooded Demon and he is a grown man already. Their kind is different. It can’t be that you haven’t thought of him that way.”

“I try not to. To have him as a lover would be wrong on so many levels that…”

Neryan’s eyebrows rose, encouraging him to continue.

Eldara rubbed at his forehead and sighed. “He’s nearly the same age as Athara. When I think… He is somehow…” he trailed off, not certain how to express what he thought and felt. “It’s somehow…”

“Could it be that you’re conscious of Athara’s clothes on him? Why is he wearing them at all?”

Von Ashira stared at Neryan for a few seconds. His friend had always been so observant it was almost impossible to hide anything from him. Indeed, it was very likely that reason, and, only recently, Wolfram had stopped smelling like Athara’s shampoo as well. Eldara opened his mouth, closed it and then opened it again. 

“You must have heard how he had been kidnapped by pirates. So he had no clothing, and then, when his suite brought his clothes from Shin Makoku, it appeared that he had grown out of it.”

“I see. Well, apart from von Bielefeld, tell me what really happened with Barista’s son. Maybe I’m letting you off too easily?”

Eldara told him everything.

“I see,” von Sedera said when Eldara finished talking. “Did you lie about the search parties? Barista can easily confirm that.”

“Yes, I am aware of that. I did dispatch them but mostly they will mop around in taverns, trying not to find anyone.”

Von Sedera nodded, agreeing that it was a good idea. “I wish you hadn’t done that, though. The whole thing. Both of them are my subjects.”

“She is mine, though.”

Eldara had inclined his head, and von Sedera thought that he looked like a bull about to attack a red cape. Von Ashira was a man who held on to his principles, not budging a millimeter even when it came to his friends or lovers. If they continued this topic, they were going to fall out. And Eldara was a dangerous man not to get along with.

“You have a point here,” von Sedera agreed. “Verinas wronged your subject and you wronged mine. Let’s consider this a draw.”

Von Ashira studied Neryan’s face for several seconds then raised his glass to clink it with the older man’s. “Yes, this is a satisfactory outcome.”

Von Sedera chuckled lightly. He sipped his wine then lowered his glass onto the table. “Do you know what would be more satisfactory?” he asked.

Eldara grinned at him. “I certainly do. Not here, though. I will come to your room after dinner.” He had expected this – all meetings with von Sedera ended with them both in bed. He found the older man irresistible, and knew that he had the same effect on Neryan. He wondered how Barista and others could be so blind as not to have noticed that during all these years.

Von Sedera raised his glass to salute him. Then he sighed. “If only your father knew...”

“I don’t think he would care. Your wife, though, is another matter.”

Neryan frowned at him. “Now you’ve completely ruined the mood.”

“That was the plan. Now finish your wine and let’s go find Wolfram.”

“See? You are already showing him off.”

“No, it’s just that I liked seeing how he was doing his best to lie to you while believing that he was saving my skin.” 

“You are evil, Eldara. You should thank him instead of making fun of him.”

“Oh, I will definitely thank him. But I want to have my fun first.”

Tbc


	17. Part 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Kyou Kara Maou! – It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I’m not making any money from writing it.  
> Warnings: yaoi (male x male), violence, swearing, angst, drama. Wolfram-centric, out of character, original character.  
> Summary: With Yuuri’s upcoming birthday, Wolfram makes his decision. Where will it lead him and what is to become of them? Should eventually be Yuuri x Wolfram.  
> A/N 1: Yuuri – 18 years old. Wolfram – 20. Eldara – 31. Halea – 20. Athara – 18.  
> A/N 2: Greta doesn’t exist.  
> A/N 3: European/American/Japanese standards all at once depending on the plot requirements.  
> A/N 4: A tendency to ignore the anime/manga and supplement the story with my own imagined facts.   
> A/N 5: Season III is not taken into consideration, except for the fact that Wolfram’s uncle exists.  
> A/N 6: The umlaut in Gunter’s name is a bother.

**Bloom**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Tia Integra

Part 17

“How do you feel?” Wolfram asked Yozak, who was lying on a bed in a small room that he was currently residing.

“Getting better,” Yozak answered. Wolfram looked doubtful, and he chuckled, “Don’t worry; I will be as good as new in a couple of days.”

The blond cast his eyes over Yozak’s pale face and dark circles under his eyes. It was clear that Yozak was acting tougher than he felt. It was going to take much longer than only a couple of days for him to recover. Wolfram felt bad about his “innocent” curiosity. It would have been much worse, though, if the duke had decided that he had deserved the outcome and just stood there watching him open the door. Even Wolfram’s men would have confirmed that nobody had pushed him into the vault – he had entered on his own volition. In fact, he had even been warned not to enter.

“What’s been happening?” Yozak asked.

The blond gave him a thoughtful look, debating with himself whether he should leave the room or keep Yozak in the course of things. The man seemed to be on the verge of falling asleep. However, Wolfram knew that Yozak held himself responsible for allowing him to break into the vault. The blond also knew that it would have been impossible for Yozak to have protested. Wolfram had been drunk and obsessed with the thought and nothing else would have quenched his curiosity. Sometimes, he could be an incarnation of stubbornness. Just like Yuuri.

“Neryan von Sedera, the Duke of Arklend, is here. Also Lennon Barista of Elkia.”

Yozak’s face grew worried. “I do know von Sedera, but you will have to remind me who Barista is.”

Wolfram shrugged uncertainly. “The Baron of Elkia is the subject of von Sedera. He has a young son named Verinas Barista. I don’t really know anything else.”

“I see. What does Barista want with von Ashira?”

Wolfram was a little puzzled by the way Yozak phrased the question but didn’t say anything as now his mind was busy coming up with lies. “It seems there was something he wanted to discuss with Eldara concerning his son,” he said finally.

Yozak stared up at the blond’s face then sighed. “Wolfram, you have always been a terrible liar. You fidget and blush every time you tell a lie. I’ve never seen anyone be so obvious about it.”

Wolfram frowned. “Well, I can’t help it!”

Yozak laughed softly at the blond’s defiant voice. “So, will you tell me what’s going on?”

Wolfram rolled his eyes, but there was no point in hiding anything because Yozak would sniff everything out, anyway. He got more comfortable in his chair and started talking.

“…So then he complained to von Sedera and now both of them are here,” Yozak finished Wolfram’s tale on his own. 

Wolfram nodded in confirmation.

“Yeah, von Ashira is notorious for arranging various sorties. And were he not a baron’s son, von Ashira would have hanged him without further ado.”

Musing, Wolfram stayed silent then he shrugged. “That would have probably been for the best.”

“You’ve become cruel,” Yozak noticed.

Wolfram rolled his eyes. “I have not. There is no guarantee that he won’t do that again.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t be so certain about that; hostile encounters with von Ashira usually make people docile for many years to come.”

Wolfram thought about this. Indeed, for the first part of his stay in Raizgad he had been intimidated by the older male. Later they had somehow found common grounds and the pressure he had felt had more or less disappeared. Of course, he hadn’t been on the receiving end of Eldara’s anger either. He could imagine that it wouldn’t be pleasant at all.

“Well, Eldara seems to have fallen out of von Sedera’s favor,” he said.

Yozak gave him a confused look. “Who? Von Ashira? Nonsense. They are old friends. Von Sedera will bitch and moan for a few minutes just to show to Barista that he’s doing something about the situation, and then he and von Ashira will shake hands and return each to his business. Rumor has it that they share a bed as well.”

Dumbfounded, Wolfram stared at him. Yozak was giving him a curious look, trying to figure out why he looked so shaken up.

“But isn’t von Sedera married?” Wolfram managed finally.

Yozak rolled his eyes. “Wolfram, aren’t you a bit too naïve?”

Wolfram continued to stare at him. “That bloody bastard...” he said in a minute, his face turning red in anger.

Now Yozak became anxious. “What did he make you do?”

Wolfram’s face flushed such brilliant red that Yozak honestly became worried that there was a possibility that they made him dance on von Sedera’s lap.

“He made fun of me!”

Yozak lay silent, waiting, but no further explanation came. However, then it became clear to him. He groaned. “He talked you into covering for him, didn’t he?” Wolfram nodded, and he sighed. “Didn’t I tell you not to get entangled with von Ashira?” Wolfram shot Yozak an angry look, and it was obvious it was best to avoid “I told you so” for now. “Well, it’s not a big deal this time. Von Ashira simply wanted to test your loyalty. The two of them will laugh about it and then forget it.”

Wolfram was gritting his teeth. He, however, was not going to allow that asshole to forget it. He was going to make certain the bastard remembered it.

“Don’t do anything reckless,” Yozak warned Wolfram, reading his face. He regretted he wasn’t able to be at the blond’s side all time since Wolfram was prone to acting on the spur of the moment.

“Define ‘ _reckless_ ’,” Wolfram growled at him.

“Just don’t be hotheaded.” In fact, Yozak knew that he should tell Wolfram not to confront von Ashira, but he also knew that it would as good as asking Wolfram to suddenly drop dead – it wouldn’t work. Wolfram never retreated; he was both too proud and too arrogant for that.

\---

This time, dinner was similar to a small banquet. There weren’t many more various foods or drinks than usual; however, the dining room had been turned into some kind of a lounge: the servants had carried in a few sofas and armchairs, and there were candlesticks arranged around the room to lighten all the corners. 

The von Ashira family and their guests sat at the table and ate quietly. There hardly were any conversations except a few compliments for the meal or small-talk about weather. Wolfram realized that earlier he would have found the atmosphere ominous, but now he was just annoyed. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed the relationship between the dukes before. When one knew what to look for, it was so obvious: their eyes would accidentally meet and linger, they also exchanged hardly noticeable smirks here and there. Wolfram guessed that Athara and Halea weren’t aware. Eldara kept even his own siblings in cruel suspense; the relationship wasn’t something von Sedera wanted his wife to know. And yet, Yozak somehow knew. Well, as one of the best spies in Shin Makoku, it was his job to know.

After the dinner, Barista excused himself and went to attend to his healing son. Wolfram could see that he was discontent with the outcome of his visit. Barista was also visibly disgruntled by the flutist who had entered the dining room just when he was leaving. Wolfram could understand him – his son had been attacked, almost beaten to death, and was still bedridden, meanwhile there was a party a few corridors away.

When Barista left, the atmosphere in the dining-room became lighter. Everyone moved to sofas and armchairs to sip their wine and listen to the flute. Eldara and von Sedera sat down separately from everyone and were occupying the sofa at the farther end of the room. Halea and von Sarda sat down next to the fireplace, which left Wolfram and Athara to enjoy each other’s company. 

Sitting down on a sofa next to the curtained window, they gave each other a look, smiled politely and then realized they hardly had anything to talk about. While sipping his wine, Athara carefully watched his brother and von Sedera interact. There was a strange expression in his eyes, and Wolfram thought that maybe he did know about his brother and Neryan.

“Wolfram?”

Wolfram was pulled out of his thoughts he had sank into while Athara had been preoccupied with watching the dukes. “Yes?”

“What would you say to us having a night out tomorrow?”

Wolfram gave the younger man an unsure look. He remembered Eldara mentioning his brother’s intention to invite him. “A night out? Where?”

Athara smiled mischievously. “Let it be a surprise.”

“A surprise?” Wolfram drawled. “Well, alright,” he agreed. He wasn’t one to enjoy noisy outings (he suspected it was going to be noisy), however, he was very curious about the place Athara spent so much of his time, and of which – if he had managed to decipher correctly – Eldara didn’t particularly approve. This made him even more eager to go there.

Athara offered him a wide grin. “Splendid.” He was obviously enjoying the thought of taking Wolfram to his hideout.

“Do I need to somehow prepare myself? Like dress in something special or something like that?” Wolfram asked.

“Oh, no. Anything will do.”

Wolfram felt slightly uncomfortable. “Thanks for letting me borrow your clothes; I really didn’t think it would last so long.”

“Don’t worry about that. It’s my pleasure.”

It was astounding how Athara’s attitude had changed towards him after saving Halea. They still felt awkward around each other, but it was obvious that Athara was very grateful. Wolfram, however, couldn’t wait for tomorrow when his ordered clothes would arrive. Many more were still in the making, but at last he would finally have a few of his own.

Wolfram turned his head at the sound of Halea’s silvery laughter. Even if Wolfram had no romantic feelings towards her, his ego still suffered when it faced von Sarda’s success. 

Athara sat with him for about twenty minutes, then finally lost interest in the evening completely and went to sleep. Before leaving the room, he had advised Wolfram to economize his energy for tomorrows night and have his rest for now as well. The blond decided to have one more slice of bread with his favorite pate and then go to sleep too.

Wolfram’s eyes were caught by a movement on the dukes’ sofa. Von Sedera had stood up and, now, was walking towards the table with his empty glass, very likely with an intention to fill it. Chewing, Wolfram watched Eldara stand up as well and head in his direction. Wolfram swallowed at about the same time when von Ashira sat down on the sofa next to him.

“We somehow managed to pull it off,” Eldara said softly, saluting the blond with his half-empty glass. “You really were a big help.”

Wolfram’s anger flared up. He had an urge to occupy his suddenly twitchy hands with something. “Glad to be of assistance,” he said, taking a napkin off the small coffee table in front of him and starting to fold it into an unrecognizable object. “When are they leaving?”

“Von Sedera is leaving tomorrow. The baron will wait for his son’s health to improve and then the two of them will return to Elkia together.” 

“So Barista will stay and snoop around,” Wolfram drawled, folding the napkin into a square object with a protruding horn. 

“Yes, it is somewhat disconcerting, but once von Sedera leaves, we can relax; Barista is hardly a threat.”

“Von Sedera is a rather intimidating man, isn’t he?” Wolfram hummed while the napkin was slowly acquiring a shape of a boat with a tail.

“He indeed is. You would not want to get on his bad side. As said, I am very grateful to you for your help.”

Wolfram’s fingers crushed the napkin. He nodded. “You are welcome. Now excuse me, I will get myself some more wine,” he said, standing up. He threw the crumpled napkin back onto the coffee table.

The duke gave him a searching look. His eyes followed the blond’s journey towards the table. Despite what he had expected, after filling his glass, Wolfram didn’t return to the sofa but chose to stand alone near the table at the farther window.

Ungracefully, Wolfram took a large gulp of wine. He was seething with rage. Eldara continued his game and was obviously enjoying it. It was all about games and tests for the duke, disregarding everything else. Wolfram felt insulted and betrayed just like when he got to know about the Esoteric Stones. He knew he shouldn’t feel betrayed. It was not as if von Ashira was his friend, he had never been, and he shouldn’t trust him for anything.

The blond was already drinking the last drops of wine when he saw Eldara coming towards him. Wolfram stepped aside to lower his glass on the cupboard at the wall. Eldara was still approaching, and Wolfram thought about leaving the dining-room as he felt he was too overwrought to keep up a polite conversation. It would look strange, though, like he were escaping.

“Do you feel alright? You don’t look too well,” Eldara said, stopping in front of the blond. Wolfram wasn’t looking at him, instead, his gaze was concentrated at something above his shoulder, and the duke turned around to see what it was. It didn’t seem that the blond was looking at anything in particular.

“I’m fine,” Wolfram said, averting his eyes to the cupboard he had left his glass on.

“You seem to have an uncanny inclination towards drinking…” Eldara drawled after following his gaze. He was a little worried about the blond. Wolfram indeed had a drinking problem. It wasn’t acute yet, but it had to be controlled and stopped before it got out of hand. He wasn’t certain he should or even had the right to interfere but he felt a need to.

“Do I?” Wolfram muttered. He leaned on the windowsill so that the light draft coming from the unsealed window would cool him a little. He was glad that the candles stood farther on the table and von Ashira couldn’t clearly see him. Wolfram knew that his face was certainly almost red in fury – that was probably why Eldara thought he was drunk. 

“Yes,” the duke confirmed. “It would be a good idea to cut down on wine a little.”

“Thank you for the advice, I’ll keep it in mind.”

Wolfram’s answer was crisp and dry, and Eldara inspected his face. His body language was also tense and jerky. It was hard to tell what was wrong with the blond, thus Eldara wrote it off as drunken fatigue. 

“I’m really concerned about you,” Eldara said honestly.

“Is that so?”

Von Ashira smiled charmingly at Wolfram. “Well, of course. Now you are my favorite liar.”

Wolfram’s grip on the windowsill was so hard that his knuckles were white. “What an honor,” he managed to mutter after a few seconds of calming himself down.

“You sound sarcastic,” Eldara noticed. “But I really mean it.”

Wolfram’s right hook caught the duke completely off guard, throwing him backwards so that he fell, whamming the back of his head against the table. The table moved sideways with a scrape, dishes jingling loudly, the plate which happened to get under the duke’s head splitting with a crack. 

With his fist still raised, Wolfram stared down at Eldara on the carpet. The duke had lost coordination for a moment and was blinking rapidly trying to orient himself. 

“Go and laugh about _this_ , you lying bastards!” Wolfram, whose mind was suddenly filled with Eldara and von Sedera laughing their heads off, hissed. His eyes snapped to von Sedera, who, like everyone else, was rooted to the floor, staring at him with his mouth open. Wolfram glared at him for a few seconds but, since von Sedera didn’t take any action, his attention was drawn to something twinkling on his right. The glass in Halea’s slack fingers had tipped sideways, the wine spilling onto her dress and down on the carpet, sparkling in the candlelight. 

The sight of the shaken woman had an immediate effect of an icy clarity on Wolfram. With a bout of abrupt panic, he looked at Eldara again, and then shot towards the door. The corridors blurred past him as he ran to his room. He could hear someone shouting after him, but couldn’t care less. Once in his room, he pushed the door shut and locked it.

“Shit!” he cursed, flinging himself onto his bed face-first. His wish to go home was suddenly so strong that it hurt physically.

Meanwhile, in the dining-room, everyone shook the affright off, although in various intervals. First to come round was von Sedera. He straightened, lowered his glass onto the table, and briskly walked over to Eldara.

“Are you alright?”

Von Ashira shook his head, trying to get his bearings back. He touched himself on the back of his head that was still rattling and then brought his hand to his face. There was no blood, just brownish plum marmalade. 

“I’m fine,” Eldara said, trying to stand up. He took Neryan’s proffered hand and steadied himself. 

“Will you tell me what it was about?” von Sedera asked.

“I think he figured out I was…”

“Eldara, are you alright?” Halea rushed to her brother. Aghast, she started fussing around him, touching his head and face, until Eldara pushed her away, gently.

“I’m fine, Halea. It’s just marmalade. Look at your dress, you…”

“Oh, no!” Halea moaned, her attention now fully occupied with her dress that had drying puddles of red wine on it. “It was my favorite!” She rushed out of the room to try and save it in time.

Unsure, Fredrick von Sarda looked at Eldara, then at the doors through which his beloved had left, then at Eldara again. With a wave of his hand towards the doors, von Ashira indicated for him to follow her. There was nothing for him to do in the dining-room anyway. There was probably nothing he could help Halea with either, but Eldara preferred him away from the room.

“He nearly knocked my teeth out,” Eldara said, rubbing his jaw. He was amazed – he wasn’t used to being taken completely by surprise and getting knocked off his feet.

“Well, that’s what you get for messing around with a full-blooded Demon,” von Sedera said matter-of-factly. He watched von Ashira for a moment with a serious look on his face. “Eldara, let me give you a piece of advice. Your sister is going to marry and leave, your brother hates you, and I have my wife. If I were you, I would stop moping around and run after von Bielefeld this instance.”

“Moron,” Eldara said, but there was no strength behind it. “I told you there is nothing between us.”

Sighing, Neryan leaned on the same windowsill Wolfram had leaned on. “So you are alright with leaving this as it is?” he asked. “You lied and he punched you and now you’ll quit on each other?”

“No, I’m not fine with it,” von Ashira muttered after a moment. He was not fine at all. Just before Wolfram’s fist rose, there had been so much rage and hurt on the blond’s face that… No, he was absolutely not fine with leaving everything as it was. “I think I have done something…disgraceful,” Eldara said after a few seconds of thinking it all through.

“Not the first time, mind you,” von Sedera commented. “I’m impressed you are aware this time.”

“Oh, shut up!” Eldara snapped at him. “Look who’s talking!”

Von Sedera chuckled. “Well, nobody else would dare to tell you.”

Eldara was silent for a moment. “ _He_ would,” he said then.

“Yeah, but it seems he would always punch you first. Just so you listened better.”

“Just shut up.”

\---

There was a soft knock on the door, and Wolfram turned his head to look at it. It was completely dark in the room as he hadn’t lit any candles. Ignoring the sound, he turned away and buried his head back into the fluffy pillow. Right now, he didn’t want to see anyone unless it was Gwendal. Obviously, it was not his brother thus the door was going to stay locked.

The knock repeated, more insistently this time. “Wolfram?”

Eldara was number one on Wolfram’s “ _Don’t want to see anyone_ ” list. He tried to ignore the persistent knocking but the pillow on his head didn’t help. Wolfram cursed softly. Even if Eldara finally stopped torturing the door, there was still tomorrow to face. This conversation was inevitable like death itself.

“I’m deeply asleep at the moment,” Wolfram said loudly, glaring at the door from under the pillow.

“Well, of course, you are. Now open the door.”

Sighing in resignation, Wolfram rolled out of the bed, snapped his fingers to light the candle, and went to let the duke in. The blond was taken aback as, after opening the door he saw not only Eldara, but three of his guards and Fajdal as well. It was clear that they had come here after having seen Wolfram tear down the corridors without reacting to any tries to stop him. Now they were staring at their lord with questions on their faces, not certain what the ordeal was, and whether they should let the duke pass.

Wolfram wasn’t certain whether letting Eldara in was a good idea, either. He had punched the man after all. Eldara, though, didn’t seem to be angry, instead, he looked pacific. 

“I think we need to talk,” Eldara said when Wolfram was just staring at him, unsure. 

“Yes, we do,” Wolfram agreed, opening the door wider. “It’s alright,” he said to Fajdal. “Leave two at the door and go to sleep.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Wolfram let the duke pass and closed the door. 

“You are bleeding,” Eldara said when he saw Wolfram favor his hand. The blond seemed surprised. He took a closer look at his hand. When he had balled his right hand into a fist to hit Eldara, several healing wounds reopened. A few tiny trickles of blood had made their way down his fingers, where red droplets hung on his fingertips. 

“Damn,” Wolfram said, his gazing towards his bed, automatically. Yet he couldn’t see anything on the cover in the dim light of the candle.

“Forget it,” Eldara said impatiently. He took Wolfram by his left arm and tugged him towards the candle on the table. He inspected the blond’s palm but it didn’t seem that it was anything serious, just a few crusts had been torn open. He turned Wolfram’s hand sideways to look at his knuckles. They were a little reddish but no skin had been broken. Normally, the tender skin would have been bruised; not of a full-blooded Demon’s, though. Eldara pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and offered it for Wolfram. Only then did he become aware that the blond was watching him with a curious look on his face.

“It is clean,” the duke said, dangling the handkerchief in the air as it appeared to him that Wolfram was hesitant to take it.

Wolfram’s lips quirked up at their corners. “Thank you,” he said taking the handkerchief and pressing it against his right palm, gently. He pushed one of the chairs away from the table and sat down. Eldara followed his suite. In the candlelight, he searched Wolfram’s face.

“I didn’t knock any of your teeth out, did I?” the blond asked, and Eldara wasn’t certain whether he sounded hopeful or disappointed.

The duke shook his head. “No, you didn’t.” Were he not a half-blood, though, he would certainly have lost one or two. Wolfram didn’t pull his punches. He probably didn’t realize very well that Humans didn’t grow their teeth back. Or maybe he did. Eldara was left wondering.

“I’m sorry,” Eldara said softly. The reaction was instant, Wolfram leaning away from him. 

Wolfram’s first instinct was to ask what he was sorry about. However, he hesitated as it was apparent that both of them knew what it was about. “Yes,” he admitted. “I am angry.”

“I am sorry for abusing your trust.”

Wolfram was silent. It was not something you could make right with only a few words. He had indeed, for some unfathomable reason, trusted Eldara. Even if he had passed Eldara’s loyalty test, the duke had failed his spectacularly.

“I crossed the line.”

“It was not the first time,” Wolfram noted, smiling wryly. “I am surprised I am still not married to your sister.”

Eldara groaned mentally. Even if it had seemed that Wolfram had known this even before von Sedera told him, he should have known this was going to return to haunt him. 

It was probably the first time when Wolfram saw that the duke could not say anything. Wolfram sighed. “I suppose you couldn’t do without it. It was one of the means to keep Orinth the Fifth away from Raizgad.”

Eldara felt compelled to just agree but one more lie would erase all his previous efforts. Doubting whether he was in the right state of mind, he shook his head. “To tell you the truth, Orinth didn’t express much interest in your stay in Kardera and left it all to me. The rumor… I admit I had toyed with the idea of you and Halea but it was rather about pissing your brother off than anything else.”

Wolfram stared at him in disbelief. “You’re an asshole,” he spat. “You really are!” 

“Well, yes, I am,” Eldara agreed. Even now he didn’t feel particularly bad about that lie. It was not as if he could have forced Wolfram to marry Halea. He was perfectly aware that Wolfram didn’t feel sexual attraction for women, and Halea, meanwhile, was more inclined to think of him as her hero than a potential husband. Politically, it would be a very beneficial marriage but otherwise it would probably be disastrous for both Wolfram and Halea.

Wolfram could only guess what the older male was thinking. He more or less understood why Eldara wanted to annoy Gwendal. No, instead of insulting or annoying, it was rather a peculiar sort of teasing. It was just a game to the duke, like many other things. Gwendal must already be aware of that. His brother wasn’t particularly good at these kinds of games. He was a man of a more direct approach. He probably wasn’t going to respond in any way unless the duke crossed the line. This didn’t mean Eldara’s petty games wouldn’t irritate Gwendal. Or maybe quite the opposite – he would be amused. Wolfram wondered which it was.

“I am not going to marry her,” Wolfram said firmly. “You can forget that.”

Eldara nodded. “Yes, I know that. Besides, I think that, at this point, von Sarda would have some serious objections to that.”

Wolfram relaxed somewhat. Then an idea occurred to him. “Wait. Wait a moment.” Now he remembered the words he himself said to Eldara, about a woman becoming more attractive when one needed to compete for her. “Von Sarda. He isn’t here to make me jealous, is he?”

Eldara laughed. “No. I assure you that he is here on his own volition. Wolfram,” he said softly, “I am aware that you prefer men.”

Wolfram cleared his throat. He raised his eyebrows slightly. “Don’t tell me now you will bring Athara into play…”

The duke burst out laughing. “No, I could only do that over his dead body.” Eldara watched Wolfram’s somewhat reddish face. “I am sorry,” he repeated. “I really am. I didn’t mean to insult you. It was rather curious to see whether you…”

“…whether I’m loyal,” Wolfram finished for him. “Well, I was. And what of it?” He raised his hand to stop the duke when he opened his mouth. “Don’t make it any worse than it is. I don’t want to hear any of your cunning plans.” Lowering his hand, the blond sighed. “I shouldn’t have hit you but you were asking for it. Like really begging for it with your comments on how good I did in front of von Sedera.”

“I got what I deserved,” Eldara agreed.

“Indeed.”

The duke chuckled. Wolfram wasn’t someone who forgave easily. “Well, hopefully, next time you feel like punching me, we can talk it out first.”

“Hopefully, next time you try to play games with me, it would be chess or cards.”

“That sounds much better than missing teeth.”

Wolfram watched the duke push his chair back and walk over to the door. He told him to keep the handkerchief. Wolfram nodded; it was going to stain permanently anyway. He watched the older man leave, then walked over to the door to lock it and went to sleep.

Wolfram couldn’t fall asleep for a long time after the duke left. He lay on his side, his thoughts swirling lazily. His mind went through his and Eldara’s conversation over and over. He wanted to believe that Eldara had been honest with him, but his experience with the older man made him doubtful.

The blond fell asleep at about 5 o’clock in the morning. He slept without ever waking through the noise made by the watch changing and the servants scurrying around with their tasks. His mind conjured a dream of his and Yuuri’s wedding. When he woke up, his face was wet with tears and he was uncomfortably hard. Disoriented, he brushed the tears off and stared at his wet fingers. He grunted softly when he remembered the dream. It wasn’t anything new, him having dreams of this kind. His dreams gave him what he couldn’t have in reality. As they were mostly sexual in nature, they made him feel guilty because he knew that Yuuri hated the very thought of kissing him. Wolfram couldn’t help himself, though.

Wondering, the blond wiped his hands on his covers. Slowly, he remembered what the dream had been about. He remembered the comfortable joy and delight when he and Yuuri got married. There had been an illusion of happiness: a lot of attachment, trust and laughter but in the end it was never serious. Yuuri smiled at him but there was still the distance between them, something missing. When he realized that, the dream became darker. Back was the frustrated anxiety and helplessness and tries to win Yuuri over. At some point he had glimpsed Yuuri fucking a maid. They knew Yuuri had noticed him watching, but both of them kept quiet about that. Then there was this very important negotiation for peace with Kardera, and he was one of the conditions for the pact and Yuuri had given him away. To Neryan of all people. Just before he had woken up, he had been dreaming about the duke and himself having sex. He remembered the lust and humiliation that the intercourse brought him.

Wolfram turned to his side, exhaling loudly into the pillow. He more or less knew what had brought on the dream. He started having wet dreams four days ago, which indicated that his body had fully recovered. This was the second time already. The rest of the dream was just the result of his and Yuuri’s failed attempt at a relationship and his constant insecurities.

Wolfram was still hard and uncomfortable but the conflicting emotions he had experienced in the dream prevented him from relieving himself as he wasn’t certain he would feel better after that. Very likely he would just relive the humiliation he had felt when Yuuri gave him away to another man.

Tbc


	18. Part 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Kyou Kara Maou! – It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I’m not making any money from writing it.  
> Warnings: yaoi (male x male), violence, swearing, angst, drama. Wolfram-centric, out of character, original character.  
> Summary: With Yuuri’s upcoming birthday, Wolfram makes his decision. Where will it lead him and what is to become of them? Should eventually be Yuuri x Wolfram.  
> A/N 1: Yuuri – 18 years old. Wolfram – 20. Eldara – 31. Halea – 20. Athara – 18.  
> A/N 2: Greta doesn’t exist.  
> A/N 3: European/American/Japanese standards all at once depending on the plot requirements.  
> A/N 4: A tendency to ignore the anime/manga and supplement the story with my own imagined facts.  
> A/N 5: Season III is not taken into consideration, except for the fact that Wolfram’s uncle exists.  
> A/N 6: The umlaut in Gunter’s name is a bother.

**Bloom**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Tia Integra

Part 18

The tailor arrived just after breakfast, as arranged. Leading the man to his room, Wolfram couldn’t shake off the feeling he had had at the breakfast table. Eldara and himself didn’t exaggerate yesterday’s incident. In fact, the blond had the impression that now Eldara’s consideration towards him grew. He might indeed be regretting his behavior. However, others, unaware why Wolfram had lashed out as he had, acted reserved around the blond. Halea didn’t speak to him at all. Von Sarda was tense, not certain how to take it. On the other hand, Athara, von Sedera, and the baron seemed to be completely unaffected. It was because the baron hadn’t been told anything, and Wolfram knew why von Sedera would be indifferent. But it would only be late in the evening until Wolfram found out why Eldara’s brother couldn’t care less.

The guard carrying a heavy chest filled with clothing followed Wolfram and the tailor into the room. Wolfram pulled two chairs away from the table and patted one of them for the guard put the chest down on it.

“Thank you. You may leave us,” Wolfram said to the guard, gesturing towards the door. Even if he couldn’t understand Wolfram, the definite action made it clear what he wanted.

The tailor walked over to the bed and placed the clothes on it. Curious, Wolfram inspected his new attire. It was his usual military jacket and trousers.

“The boots are in the chest,” the tailor said, walking over to the chairs. He opened the chest. Wolfram was again surprised by how good his language was. Upon inquisition, the duke had explained that Motan had been von Ashira family’s head tailor for a long time, and, since Eldara’s mother was a Demon, not wanting to give up her sense of style, she followed the fashion in Shin Makoku, thus Motan had needed to make himself familiar with various descriptions and instructions.

“Would you like to try everything on, Sir?”

Wolfram nodded. He unbuttoned and took his jacket off, his shirt followed. He took one of the shirts and shrugged it on. There were three of them just like they had agreed for today. Many more were in the making, and he was going to order even more clothes.

Wolfram had gotten more or less used to the thought of spending the rest of the autumn and all winter in Kardera. If his health improved sooner, he would be able to travel sooner, but the very thought of setting his foot on a ship made him gag. The blond was worried that his adventure with the pirates would not even allow him to ever look at a ship, much less to board one. This would make his return practically impossible. He didn’t even want to think about it.

Yesterday, Wolframs conversation with Eldara bound Wolfram to believe that his prolonged stay might be not such a bad thing. It might be interesting, exciting even. They had reached some kind of agreement; one more of them, at least. He was also looking forward to today’s outing with Athara. Again, he couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy as he was aware that his curiosity was more fuelled by Eldara’s disapproval of Athara’s pass-time than at the prospect of going somewhere together with the duke’s brother. On the other hand, it was no wonder. He didn’t particularly like the youngest von Ashira. Athara seemed to him somehow impulsive and he found it hard to predict his reactions. He felt uncomfortable around the younger male. He sensed that the feeling was mutual.

Wolfram looked at himself in the mirror. The uniform fit him perfectly. Not to be narcissistic or anything, but he looked dashing. Wolfram turned around, checking himself out in the mirror again. It was a pity that there was no one he could show himself off to. Nobody cared.

The blond pouted at the mirror. He had always been particular about his appearance, but his fastidiousness had found target only with Yuuri. Yuuri found him handsome, and he liked looking good for Yuuri. Always looking his best had been his guarantee that Yuuri would not look at others and would finally fall in love with him. It had never worked, though. 

Wolfram started undressing his uniform. What a shame that Athara wasn’t interested in men; if he was, he would certainly appreciate having such a gorgeous companion at his side this evening. Amused by his own thoughts, Wolfram chuckled. He had never been modest about his looks. Gwendal called this arrogance and he was probably right. He had always been aware of how people stared at him.

Wolfram laid his uniform back on the bed and went to see other clothes the tailor had brought with him. They were going to be his apparel this evening as wearing the von Bielefeld military uniform didn’t seem appropriate for an outing. 

Wolfram looked at the jacket the tailor had retrieved from the deeper section of the chest. It was a dark blue, nearly black, jacket of average length. The upper part of it was of similar style to the jackets Athara and most of other men were wearing in Raizgad. Wolfram, however, was strictly against the frills on the bottom part of the jacket. It might be the latest fashion in Raizgad, but he couldn’t accept it. He had refused to wear knee-breeches as well thus the tailor had come up with trousers which were similar to the trouser for Wolfram’s uniform. The trousers were made of the same material as the jacket and were also of the same color. The shoes that went together were black, though, and with raised platforms. Wolfram had debated this but he had seen Eldara and Athara wear similar shoes and had to agree that they looked good. 

Wolfram took the shirt that was offered and shrugged it on. Then he put on a short gray jacket intended for casual wear. It looked neat and was comfortable. The trousers that came with them were wider than any of Athara’s, and Wolfram could finally sit down without having to worry about them cutting into his skin in odd places. He undressed neither the jacket nor the trousers, deciding to wear them until the evening. 

Content with the result, he tried on several cravats the tailor brought with him. He was supposed to choose the ones he liked best, but he found all of them acceptable, therefore, to show his gratitude, he took all of them. It felt incredibly good to be able to pay for himself.

When the tailor left, both his and Wolfram’s faces shone with satisfaction.

\---

The entire von Ashira household gathered to see Neryan von Sedera off. Trunks and chests already loaded into the carriage, Wolfram watched Lennon Barista of Elkia say his farewells to his lord until Eldara walked over to the duke. Wolfram didn’t know what secret signs he had had expected to see, but their parting was strictly official. Well, of course, it had to be. The blond was somewhat uncomfortable about his piqued curiosity. The dream he’d had certainly increased it.

When it was Wolfram’s turn to see the duke off, he didn’t miss a mischievous spark in Neryan’s eyes. The duke’s handshake was firm and warm.

“Thank you for keeping Eldara busy,” he said softly. “Your Highness is good at that; I’ve never seen Eldara so lively.”

The corners of Wolfram’s lips quirked up; he was not amused in the least, neither by the innuendo nor the teasing. “Thank you, Your Grace. But I believe Your Grace is much more experienced in the ways of keeping Eldara busy.”

Neryan von Sedera squeezed Wolfram’s hand even firmer. His smile vanished. “There’s time for practice, Your Highness. I believe a lot of it; I heard Your Highness will be staying here for quite some time. I wish Your Highness a good stay in Kardera.”

Wolfram decided to just leave it be. Neryan von Sedera was an influential man, and there was no point in getting into a conflict with him over such a ridiculous matter. Another thing was that Wolfram had suspicions that underneath that impish façade, the duke may actually be somewhat jealous. That made him chuckle inwardly.

Keeping his emotions clear off his face, Wolfram nodded. “Thank you, Your Grace. Have a safe journey.”

“Are Motan’s services satisfactory?” Eldara asked after von Sedera had departed and now he and Wolfram were climbing the stairs back into the castle. Right now the blond was wearing a coat he had borrowed from Athara but the duke had noticed Wolfram’s new attire. He just hadn’t found an opportunity to comment on them yet.

The blond nodded. “Yes, thank you. He does a wonderful job.”

“Your new clothes suit you tremendously,” Eldara complimented. He laughed inwardly when Wolfram’s face lit up with contentment. Sometimes Wolfram needed very little to be happy. “The current haircut looks better on you as well.” Now Wolfram looked somewhat doubtful. “You look sharper, more…refined?” Eldara explained. He, in fact, found Wolfram more masculine instead of “more refined”. Saying that to Wolfram, however, would doubtlessly result in the blond assuming that he thought Wolfram hadn’t been masculine enough or lacked masculinity in general. That would probably be correct, as, when he saw Wolfram in Shin Makoku last, he had the impression that Wolfram was just an attractive kid but now, in his opinion, Wolfram had grown a lot. Although explaining all that would be a much greater pain than to just simply be quiet.

“Thank you,” Wolfram said, surprised by the note of shyness that appeared in his voice. He slipped past the door Eldara held for him. It was warm inside the castle and he welcomed the change. A servant hurried over to them to take their coats. 

Neryan von Sedera had left after having lunch with von Ashira household. Baristas had their lunch in their chambers. It was probably some kind of protest, but Wolfram was aware that neither Eldara nor von Sedera had been bothered by their absence. It was still four hours till he and Athara would go to the place the youngest von Ashira had promised to take him. Wolfram decided to spend the next hour pampering himself in the baths.

When he was finally ready for Athara’s surprise and both of them were standing at the door, waiting for the servants to bring their coats, he could feel Halea’s and Eldara’s admiring eyes on him.

“Well, you look splendid tonight,” Halea said, casting one more gaze at the blond, who was wearing his dark-blue jacket, the shirt and trousers he had picked for the night earlier. He also donned one of the cravats that he bought today. Its whiteness contrasted with the almost black jacket and accentuated Wolfram’s emerald eyes.

“Indeed,” Athara agreed with his sister. “I’m a little worried that with such a handsome companion at my side nobody would pay any attention to me.”

Wolfram accepted the compliments as everyone did – smiled a lot and told them he was not worthy of them and asked to stop embarrassing him. He breathed more freely when he finally stepped into the cool evening air. A minute later, escorted by three guards, he and Athara left the castle premises in a carriage. 

It was dark in the town, a candlelight flickering in windows oftentimes. The main road was almost deserted excluding occasional bystanders. They proceeded down the main road, nearly reached the very end when they turned left into another street. They rode a few hundred meters further until they stopped at a two-storey building. At first glance, it didn’t look any different from the rest of the sleepy houses in the town. When the guards started dismounting, however, Wolfram noticed that all the windows were alight. Athara hadn’t explained him anything during their short trip here and Wolfram followed him out of the carriage, still uncertain what he was about to face. 

The door swung open before Athara could set his foot on the short stairs leading to the house. A doorkeeper, or whatever his post may be, greeted them brightly and rushed to meet them. On his way, he bowed so many times that Wolfram wondered how he managed to keep his balance on the stairs.

He chirped ecstatically in Karderian, now walking backwards back into the house as Athara and Wolfram continued advancing the stairs. He walked backwards until all three of them filed into a hall. The doorman quickly motioned for another man at the door to help the guests undress their coats. 

The first thing that attracted Wolfram’s eye were two winding staircases, one on the left and one on the right, both meeting on the second floor to form a balcony. The hall itself was decorated in bright red and golden colors, striving for the sense of luxury, yet failing as some of the tapestry was faded and had blemish. The “gold” on the railing of the stairs was dim and covered in scratches. The carpeting was clean but worn. 

There were three doors in the hall: one under the balcony, one leading right and one left. Wolfram could hear laughter and noise coming from the door on the left. After his coat was taken and, after he wiped his feet on the doormat, he stood beside Athara, waiting. The guards hadn’t followed them into the house, which puzzled him somewhat.

Wolfram reconsidered the doorman’s post. Wolfram thought that he may be an owner but, since Athara showed no intention of introducing them to each other, he couldn’t be certain.

The owner said something to von Ashira, and Wolfram looked at him for explanation. Athara hesitated for a moment then said something to the owner. 

“I said that we wanted a separate room,” Athara explained to Wolfram as they were led to the stairs on their right.

“What for?”

“Well, I presumed you would like more privacy.”

While Wolfram organized this in his head, the owner and Athara exchanged a few more words but all the blond understood was “Sir Lanchester”, “meet”, and “alright”.

Athara and Wolfram were led upstairs and down a long corridor. They passed a few doors, all the while listening to – what Wolfram presumed were – the owner’s complaints about the cold weather. The blond now had a hunch as to where he was. He hoped he was wrong. Nevertheless, once they entered a spacious room, the background of which mainly consisted of two enormous beds, his suspicions were confirmed – he was in a brothel.

Wolfram looked around. He had been in a brothel before although the one he remembered had been nowhere as big or as clean as this one. All he could remember now were damp, moldy walls and creaky flooring. He had also seen a few tramps leaning against one of the damp walls. He had been just a child of five back then and one of the women smiled at him in, what she probably presumed, was a motherly manner. He remembered that he had recoiled at the sight of her ugly yellow teeth. She had covered her mouth in embarrassment. 

The memory of why he had ever entered such an establishment at such a young age eluded him. He could only guess that he went in looking for someone or followed one of his bodyguards inside. He wouldn’t even remember the incident after all these years if not for Conrart, who had been so inflamed he felt it necessary to antagonize over it.

Once they entered the room, the owner rushed to light the candles that stood on the table in the middle of the room, then briskly walked to light the ones hanging on the walls. Athara and Wolfram were shown to a large sofa where they sat down. A coffee table stood in front of the sofa. The blond noticed a bell rope hanging close to the couch.

When all the candles had been lit, the owner addressed Athara, asking him something. 

“Would you like something to drink?” Athara translated for Wolfram.

“White wine, please.”

Wolfram noted that Athara didn’t mention anything about his own choice, only translating Wolfram’s. The owner obviously knew what Athara liked, since, without further ado, he went to the cupboard to retrieve two bottles and glasses. Wolfram watched him carry everything to the coffee table and start pouring the drinks. Athara’s glass was filled with rich, dark liquor. The smell was sharp, prickly. Von Ashira took it, and Wolfram reached for his wineglass.

“For this evening,” Athara said, clinking his glass against Wolfram’s.

They drank slowly, enjoying the taste of their drinks. Wolfram eased back into the sofa, trying to relax his shoulders. It was obvious that Athara was a frequent visitor to this establishment. It was no wonder too, that the youngest von Ashira thought that his sister’s savior could use a brothel as well. He had spent quite some time in the castle, and Athara was aware that his sex life was nonexistent. The concern was both reasonable and irritating.

Wolfram found the situation awkward. He sipped his wine while considering leaving as soon as he finished drinking his glass. It was a good thing that nobody was introduced and anonymity was preserved. Nobody knew who he was. Hopefully.

The blond turned his head to the owner, who was talking to Athara again. They discussed something for a while, and then the man left.

“So this is where you spend most of your time…” Wolfram concluded, churning the contents of his glass.

Athara grinned at him. “Is it so surprising?”

Wolfram shrugged. “No, not at all.” He could understand now why neither Halea nor Eldara wanted to talk about what Athara did in his free time. It was, probably, a well-known fact in the town. Well, it wasn’t his business.

“It’s fun here,” Athara assured him.

“I have no doubts about that,” Wolfram said, trying to keep sarcasm out of his voice. He obviously didn’t succeed as Athara eyed him coldly. Wolfram shrugged again, sighing. “Well, I haven’t ever been to one so I wouldn’t know.”

Soon snacks, various fruits and sweets were brought in and lowered on the coffee table. Wolfram fished out an apple that looked appetizing out of the bowl and took a bite. 

After the servants left, there was a knock and a wealthy looking man entered the room. He grinned brightly at the sight of Athara and fluttered across the room towards them. He said something to which Athara answered with something that had them both laughing. Obviously, the two were on very good terms. Probably friends.

Still laughing, the newcomer reached the coffee table. Now his attention went to Wolfram. The blond’s eyebrows rose when admiring eyes took him in. Athara’s friend quickly assessed Wolfram’s looks, clicked approvingly with his tongue and suddenly reached out for the blond’s face. 

Athara’s whole body had leaned forward in an attempt to swat his friend’s hand away before it could touch the blond. It all happened so fast and he had been absolutely unprepared for something like this. Aghast, Athara stared at Wolfram’s fingers wrapped around his friend’s wrist in an iron grasp. Wolfram’s face radiated violence.

“What the hell is he doing?” Wolfram asked softly, his voice just a hiss. “Did he really mistake me for a whore?”

Athara glanced at his alarmed friend. “Ahm…” he muttered, slowly leaning back into the sofa. “This is Wolfram von Bielefeld, His Royal Emissary from Shin Makoku,” he introduced. “And this is Sir Dorian Lanchester.”

Dorian’s eyes widened. He blushed brightly. “Dear gods. Your Highness,” he stated in a shaky voice. Then he tugged at his hand and Wolfram let go, albeit reluctantly. Dorian spoke a nearly fluent Demon language, which soothed Wolfram’s indignation to some extent. 

Dorian looked at his friend, forcing a laugh. “And I wondered how your preferences could have changed so much…” When Athara gave him a warning look, his attention returned to the blond. “Please, forgive me, Sir,” he said to Wolfram offering a small bow.

Wolfram nodded curtly, accepting the apology. Athara motioned for his friend to push a chair over closer to them and sit down. Meanwhile he got a glass for him. He filled it with the same liquor he was having and held it out for Dorian. The three of them saluted each other and drank.

Athara and his friend exchanged the information on their latest exploits, their health and then went on talking about women. Wolfram listened to them but didn’t join the conversation. He wanted to leave but it would have been an impolite gesture. It had been only with best intentions when the youngest von Ashira had specially invited him here. He would have to sit it out. Then Wolfram’s attention went to a blueberry pie on the table.

About twenty minutes later, Dorian, unnerved by Wolfram’s silence, had excused himself saying that he had to return to the friends he had left in the other room.

“You scared him off,” Athara noted accusingly when he and Wolfram were left alone in the room. He was lightly drunk already.

“Did I?” Wolfram muttered. He felt no remorse - it had been Dorian’s mistake. He was pretty content now – he had eaten almost all of the wonderful blueberry pie, leaving a small piece of it just out of courtesy for Athara to try.

Athara sighed. “Oh, well.” He leaned back into the sofa, getting even more comfortable. “So how is your hand?” he asked, looking at Wolfram’s right hand which he held his glass in.

Wolfram took the glass in his left hand and spread his fingers. Only the shallow cuts which had been reopened were visible. “It’s almost healed,” the blond said. “I can hardly wait until I am able to hold my sword again.”

Sipping his dark liquor in slow, bitter gulps, the youngest von Ashira watched the longing look on Wolfram’s face. The blond loved swords, he loved riding, and he had no sex life. He would have been a perfect brother Eldara had never had. Except for drinking. He snickered inwardly; yet no one was perfect indeed.

“You have two half-brothers, don’t you?” Athara asked.

A little surprised at the sudden turn in the conversation, Wolfram nodded. “Yes, I do.”

The youngest von Ashira hummed, considering this, then offered Wolfram more wine, which the blond accepted gladly. While watching him drink, Athara wondered what exactly von Bielefeld was compensating for. Well, whatever it was, drinking wasn’t going to do him any good.

“It seems von Sarda is serious about Halea,” Wolfram noted. “I think a wedding is on the horizon.”

“Hopefully,” Athara agreed. He chuckled remembering how he had been dead set against Wolfram courting Halea. It was such a laugh when he thought about it now. “She seems to be smitten by him, too.”

They talked about this and that and both of them were getting drunker by the minute. Wolfram forgot that he had wanted to leave and talked to Athara willingly.

“I bet you get along with your brothers,” Athara said at some point, his thoughtful, unsteady gaze directed at the ceiling.

“Umm… Not always,” Wolfram said, wondering why they kept returning to the topic. “I get along with Gwendal. Conr-”

“You know,” Athara cut him off, “I got yelled at for not escorting Halea to the stupid fair. I understand I should’ve, but…” He gave Wolfram a look half-filled with jealousy and half in admiration. “He was so pissed, that bastard!”

“Well, it’s understandable,” Wolfram said carefully. “He was worried.”

“Yes, yes,” Athara nodded impatiently, downing the rest of the dark brown liquid in his glass. He reached for the bottle to pour himself another one. “I know that. But it’s always my fault! No matter what I do, it’s never enough or is always wrong!”

“I’m certain he doesn’t think that.” Wolfram got the feeling that Athara wasn’t even listening to him – it was as if he was entranced by his anger and hurt.

“Why didn’t you do that? Why didn’t you do this? He’s always discontent! I don’t remember him ever being happy with me.” Athara gave Wolfram a drunken look and raised his glass, saluting him. “He treats strangers better than his own brother. Or it’s always about Halea. I’m always just the third, _foolish_ son.”

Wolfram looked at his glass morosely. Athara was jealous of him. Grateful to him, but jealous and bitter nonetheless. What he was jealous about wasn’t exactly clear – whether of Wolfram’s half-brothers or of him having earned Eldara’s acceptance or of both at once – but it made the blond regret his agreement to accompany Athara here all over again. 

“Mister Perfection!” Athara spat, seething with intoxicated rage. “Looking down on me all the time… You can’t imagine how I hate him.”

The flow of words was unstoppable; Wolfram couldn’t discern even between them. Every time he would try to either console Athara or to put in a good word for Eldara, he was interrupted and cut off. In the end, he just listened quietly. He didn’t know how much truth he was hearing but it had become clear to him, Athara and Eldara’s relationship. And, to his horror, it sounded more and more familiar.

Athara’s voice carried so much hatred and wrong that Wolfram felt that with every sip he took his wine was becoming progressively bitter. It was obvious that nothing he would say would make Athara feel better – the loathing rooted itself in deep a long time ago. 

What spilled from Athara’s mouth made Wolfram miserable, too. He knew Eldara loved his brother and wished the best for him. The way Athara felt about him was, in Wolfram’s opinion, wrong. It made him think about himself and Gwendal. Gwendal had done so much for him! All this time he had been his brother, father, friend, and mentor. Wasn’t it the same with Eldara and Athara? Why wasn’t it the same with him and Conrart?

The blond stared at the bowl of fruits in front of him, wondering why and where it went wrong. Once, he had hated Conrart just as much as Athara hated his brother. Somewhere along the way, the hatred had dissipated but the bitterness still lived. He could probably try to swallow his pride and try to restore their relationship. However, he felt that it was already too late – the gap between them would never disappear. That knowledge pained him, the feeling of failure cutting in deep. Conrart had tried, so many times, to reach out to him. He never took that hand. He knew Conrart suffered. And there had been time when he had wallowed in the knowledge of that pain.

He was older now, wiser. He knew he should have forgiven Conrart and moved on. But what was the point now? They got used to things as they were.

TBC


	19. Part 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Kyou Kara Maou! – It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I’m not making any money from writing it.  
> Warnings: yaoi (male x male), violence, swearing, angst, drama. Wolfram-centric, out of character, original character.  
> Summary: With Yuuri’s upcoming birthday, Wolfram makes his decision. Where will it lead him and what is to become of them? Should eventually be Yuuri x Wolfram.  
> A/N 1: Yuuri – 18 years old. Wolfram – 20. Eldara – 31. Halea – 20. Athara – 18.  
> A/N 2: Greta doesn’t exist.  
> A/N 3: European/American/Japanese standards all at once depending on the plot requirements.  
> A/N 4: A tendency to ignore the anime/manga and supplement the story with my own imagined facts.  
> A/N 5: Season III is not taken into consideration, except for the fact that Wolfram’s uncle exists.  
> A/N 6: The umlaut in Gunter’s name is a bother.

**Bloom**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Tia Integra

Part 19

Wolfram was pulled out of his thoughts about his and his brothers’ relationships when Athara pulled violently at the bell rope next to the sofa. The sound of the bell echoed from the first floor. The youngest von Ashira had probably been talking all this time, cursing and demeaning Eldara, but Wolfram realized that he hadn’t heard a word of it while being preoccupied by his own thoughts. That was perfect – he didn’t want to hear anything anymore from that poisonous mouth.

When the owner rushed in, about twenty seconds later, Athara rose from the sofa bellowing something, his tongue hardly listening to him as he stumbled over his own words. The owner understood him, though, and, with a nod, disappeared quickly. Wolfram was much too disgruntled to ask or to even care about what Athara had wanted with the man. He stared at his glass, his eyes glazed over with the mess bubbling inside him. 

The blond jerked and nearly spilled the contents of his glass at someone’s loud guffaws. Lowering his glass, he looked at the door, which opened to let in two females. He gawked at them while they approached the sofa. Despite the fact that it wasn’t very warm in the building, both of them wore light, short-sleeved dresses with wide necklines. Their long untied hair spilled over their shoulders and down their backs. One was a redhead, the other a blonde.

While he apathetically stared at them, Athara rose to grab the red-haired one and dragged her with himself onto the sofa, making Wolfram bounce. The woman giggled mindlessly, her legs flailing, hitting the corner of the coffee table. She yelped as Wolfram’s wineglass tipped over and started rolling over the table. Wolfram frowned at the spilled glass and reached out to lift it. 

While Wolfram was looking for a napkin or a towel to throw onto the puddle, the second woman slid onto his lap. Confused, Wolfram stared at her plunging neckline. As if through a mist, he could hear Athara and the red-haired whore laugh. He peeled his eyes away from the intimidating breasts and turned his head aside. As the red-haired whore unbuckled von Ashira’s belt, Wolfram’s interest sparked but died out as soon as the woman lowered her head and her hair fell sideways to cover the view.

The wet, slurping sounds that followed made Wolfram sickly. The wine was having trouble staying in his stomach, but he wasn’t certain if the cause of his sudden condition was the wine or the mess in his head.

The woman on his lap rubbed herself against him. She had already unbuttoned his jacket and was going for his shirt. Her smell mixed with her sweet perfume made Wolfram shiver in disgust. He grabbed at her hands and pushed her away. She slid off his lap, giving him a seductive smile. Swiveling her hips provocatively, she started unbuttoning her dress. She wore nothing underneath. Her lulling breasts fell out, her cloven crotch now in full view. Then she dove at him, her naked skin causing friction against his clothes, her sweet smell assaulting his nostrils again.

Wolfram pushed the woman aside, rose from the sofa and staggered past her. “I’m going home,” he declared in a slur, brushing the female’s hands off when she tried to hold him. His clumsy fingers groped at his buttons in an attempt to get his attire in order.

“L-let go!” he hissed when the whore grabbed at his arm.

Athara was too drunk and too far gone to care what Wolfram did. He took the red-head’s hair into a firmer hold to keep her head down.

“Let him be,” he croaked huskily.

Wolfram staggered out of the room while the whore sent curses after him. He managed to climb downstairs without stumbling and headed straight for the door leading outside. The doorman went to find his coat. Wolfram flopped down into an armchair in the hall. He turned his head when one of the doors opened, the noise filling the lobby. It was the owner rushing to him. Wolfram looked past him at what was happening behind the door. Three men were fucking a woman. One had his cock in her mouth, the second was fucking her ass and the last one was drilling her crotch. She was grumbling and gargling, and Wolfram wondered whether it was in pain or pleasure. Disgusted, he turned away and staggered to his feet. He reached out for his coat the doorman brought.

“You’re leaving already, Sir?” the owner asked.

Fumbling with his buttons, Wolfram didn’t look at him. “Yes.” He started checking his pockets and soon found his pouch. “How much- how much do I owe you?” he rasped out, suddenly feeling that the air has become stuffy. His head was spinning madly. He was suddenly very hot.

“It will be better if we step outside, Sir,” the owner said, taking him by his arm and leading to the door. “Nothing, Sir. Your friend is most generous. I will be most grateful if Sir becomes our patron as well.”

“No,” Wolfram said sharply standing on the stairs. He leaned against the metal railing and took a few silver coins out of his pouch. He clumsily pushed them into the owner’s pocket. That should be more than enough for the wine and the pie. “I won’t come back here.”

Wolfram’s head was still spinning but he felt better in the cool air. He could see the owner shivering. Without saying another word, he descended down the stairs and went to find a horse. He found seven in the stables nearby. He grabbed one and dragged it out into the cold night’s air. While the bodyguards stared at him in amusement, he swung himself onto the saddle. Their grins died out at once.

Once Wolfram was on his horse, his only thought was how to return to the castle as soon as possible. He realized he was drunk, and awfully so, but he was already in a frenzy of speed and escape. Something was tearing at his chest and wanted out so much that he felt like screaming.

When Wolfram was galloping past the stables and into the wide road, he heard shouts behind him and that only made him urge the horse to go faster. The guards had not expected he would manage to get onto the horse in that condition, and now it was too late.

It was cloudy, but the night wasn’t very dark, as the thin sheet of snow covered the ground and the light which escaped the clouds reflected off it. The road and trees blurred past Wolfram’s eyes, and he had no awareness how he had covered the distance and rose into the hill. His head only cleared when his way was barred by two guards at the castle gate.

His horse’s sides were heaving in exertion, she was gnawing the bite, froth covered her muzzle. Wolfram rolled off the horse, nearly folding over onto the ground. One of the guards grabbed at the blond’s arms to steady him. 

“Sir?”

“Just…” Wolfram wondered why he had climbed off the horse. The distance between the gate and the castle intimidated him. “Just…nothing.” He pushed himself off the guard and tottered forward. Behind his back, the guards exchanged glances. The one who was holding the reins nodded to the other. In a moment, Wolfram felt himself being maneuvered towards the castle. 

The blond was climbing the stairs when he heard hooves hitting the cobbles in the yard. His guards had finally arrived. The guard leading him opened the doors for him and let him inside the castle. He said something to the guards in the hall and left Wolfram. 

The warmth in the hall made the thoughts in the blond’s head float like woolen clouds. It was quiet in the house, the duke and his sister obviously sleeping at such an ungodly hour. In detached disinterest the blond stared at the two guards who had approached him. One was asking something but Wolfram didn’t understand what he wanted. He waved him off and started heading for the end of the hall. On his way he removed his hat and then started unbuttoning his coat. Once he reached the stairs leading to the second floor, he slid out of the coat and dropped it to the ground. He felt much lighter after getting rid of the heavy burden and started climbing. The guards tattled among themselves then decided to leave him be and returned to their post at the doors in the hall.

Wolfram passed Eldara’s chambers and headed further down the corridor towards his room. A minute later he changed his mind and returned to the duke’s door. He knocked and waited but there was no answer, so he knocked again, much louder this time. Soon the blond heard something crashing and shuffling inside, and the duke’s sleepy and disgruntled voice wafted from behind the locked door.

“Who is it?”

“Me.”

“Me? Who ‘me’?”

“Mrrrmme.”

Wolfram heard Eldara mutter something; it was probably a curse. “Wolfram? Is that you?”

The blond blinked at the door. “How did you know?”

The sound of the key turned in the lock resonated in the empty corridor. The duke appeared in the doorway, trying to tie the belt of his bathrobe with one hand while his other held an oil lamp. He brushed his dishevel hair out of his face and tossed it over his shoulder. Wolfram suddenly seemed fascinated by the flight of the dark violet hair.

“Whoaaa, that’s long,” he muttered.

Eldara gave him a questioning look. “Wolfram, are you drunk?”

Wolfram’s eyes flitted to the duke’s. “Mm… No?”

The corners of the duke’s mouth quirked up in a not amused way. They stared at each other. Suddenly the silence ended as two Wolfram’s guards rushed down the corridor towards Wolfram. They were still wearing coats. Eldara stared at them from the doorway. The duke leaned his shoulder on the doorframe to watch them as they simply stopped at the sight of him and Wolfram. It was obvious that it was the blond had come to him, and they seemed to be awkward, unsure what to do. Eldara averted his eyes to inspect Wolfram in half-light. He was perfectly aware of the blond’s messy appearance: his jacket was unbuttoned, the upper button on his shirt was missing at all.

He dropped his gaze to the ends of his slippers then his eyes touched the ends of Wolfram’s boots and then the trail of wetness and dirt they had left on the carpeted floor. Wolfram stank of liquor, he was obviously having trouble standing straight. 

“You are,” the duke stated. 

“I am what?”

“Drunk.”

“Ah. Just a little,” Wolfram admitted sheepishly.

Eldara gave him a look. “Alright,” he sighed, backing away from the doorway, “come on in.” It was obvious that something had happened as Athara’s parties usually lasted longer, sometimes all night, and he didn’t expect Wolfram’s return until morning.

Wolfram nearly whooshed into the room. He bounced past the table and into the adjacent room. Eldara stared at his back then turned to the guards. He shrugged and closed the door. 

When the duke returned to his bedroom, he found the blond seated on the chaise longue. Eldara lowered the oil lamp onto a small reading table in front of the chaise longue then pulled the chair away from the night table and took a seat in front of Wolfram. 

“What happened?” he asked at once because the sooner they dealt with this, the sooner he would be able to go back to sleep. 

The blond shuddered and covered his face with his hands. Eldara’s eyebrows rose. Wolfram seemed to be more discomposed that he realized by whatever happened at the brothel. 

Wolfram suddenly slid off the chaise longue and headed for the cabinet where behind the glass door he could see a carafe. “It was…awful.” 

Silently, Eldara watched him open the door and pull out the carafe and two glasses. It seemed the blond readily believed he was going to join his drinking spree. He wondered if Wolfram would manage to bring the full carafe and the glasses to the reading table without breaking them.

“What exactly?” Eldara wondered as he stood up and walked closer to the blond in case he needed to steady him. 

Wolfram lowered the carafe and the glasses onto the table and dropped back into the chaise longue. Without saying anything, he uncorked the carafe. It was obvious he didn’t want to talk. Instead, he simply sought company to drown his distress. 

Eldara’s eyes followed the blonds hand while he was pouring drinks from the carafe into their glasses. Once they were full, he pushed one of them over for Eldara. The duke watched Wolfram take a sip and frown. He lowered the glass.

“Water?”

Eldara nodded. Wolfram stood up, and the duke followed him. He pressed his palm to the glass door of the cabinet when Wolfram was about to open it. “I think water is exactly what you need now, Wolfram.”

The blond turned his head to glare at him. He struggled when the duke took him by his arm and started to force him back to the chaise longue. Eldara paid no heed to his wobbly attempts to free himself and seated him there. 

“Tell me what happened.”

The room was spinning now. Wolfram moaned softly and closed his eyes. He felt like he was under water. Eldara looked around for anything he could use as a bucket. His gaze was drawn to the bouquet of dry flowers on the nightstand and he got up to retrieve the vase. When he returned, Wolfram was mumbling something while rubbing at his eyes. 

“…s disgusting.”

“Mm?”

Wolfram shuddered. “She tried to take my clothes off.” 

Eldara thought that maybe he should have warned Athara of Wolfram’s preferences after all. The fact that Wolfram had had a male fiancé was glaringly obvious, though. He hadn’t expected, however, that Wolfram would have such negative reactions towards women.

Eldara shrugged. “Well, it’s not a big deal.” He chuckled as he tried to calm the blond down. “You’re safe and sound now.”

Wolfram’s mood didn’t improve a bit. He still looked disgusted and was still out of it. “Athara went on and on and on talking….” He groaned. “Your brother’s an idiot.”

“Uh. I don’t think he realized that y-” Eldara started when Wolfram grabbed his hands.

“Gwendal’s everything for me.”

Confused, Eldara stared him. Wolfram was gripping his hands so hard it nearly hurt. The blond looked as if he would start crying at any given moment. The confusion started to clear in the duke’s head. He smiled grimly.

“I miss him so much! Athara… I don’t understand how he could say all that! You’ve…you’ve raised both of them! And Gwendal’s like a father to me! Why’s he saying all that? So much hatred… Conrart… I…” Wolfram let go of Eldara’s hands to cover his face. “Conrart… I wish I could go home. I miss Gwendal. I hate Yuuri! Damn bastard! Both of them!”

Wolfram was babbling almost incoherently now. Eldara wasn’t certain what he should do. Obviously, Wolfram wasn’t very interested in his and Athara’s relationship – it was more a subject of exploration and reflection of Wolfram and his own brothers’. It seemed there was discord in Wolfram and Conrart Weller’s relationship, which kept surfacing despite the blond’s attempts to repress it. Now Eldara was curious since Wolfram never talked about Lord Weller, actually, never even mentioned him. He was as much a taboo as Yuuri Shibuya. 

“Wolfram, calm down. I’m certain it will be alright.”

Eldara’s calm and soothing voice had an inverse effect on Wolfram. It caused a wave of self-pity and he suddenly felt that he couldn’t control it anymore. Tears sprung to his eyes. He was startled and annoyed and afraid of his emotional turmoil all at the same time. 

Disturbed, the duke stared at the blond’s hand-covered face. He could see tears starting to trickle past Wolfram’s fingers and then the dam burst through. Wolfram started sobbing. Eldara moved closer. Uncertain, he patted the blond on his arm.

“Wolfram, calm down. It’s alright. You just need to sleep it off. Everything will seem better in the morning.”

Wolfram couldn’t even find strength in himself to protest. He rolled to his side so that his face was pressed against the backrest of the chaise longue and continued to sob. Lost, Eldara stared at his shaking back then started searching his bathrobe pockets but found nothing. He stood up and went to his bedside cabinet to retrieve a handkerchief from the top drawer. Right now, all he could do for Wolfram was to allow for him to cry himself into drunken sleep. Even if it was under the influence of alcohol, it was still a disturbing sight.

Eldara brought the handkerchief to Wolfram and lowered it near his face. “Here, take it.”

Wolfram turned his tear-suffused face to see what he was being offered. He reached out an unsteady hand to take the piece of cloth then pressed it to his nose. Eldara reclined his head to stare at the ceiling while the blond blew his nose. The situation was somehow…as much amusing as it was troublesome.

It was quiet in the room now, Wolfram’s tears and sobs have finally subsided to calm breathing. He lay so motionless that Eldara thought that he must have fallen asleep. Carefully, he stood up. He thought he should take Wolfram’s boots and upper clothes off but he dreaded yet another cascade of tears in case he woke up. He fetched a cover from the wardrobe and spread it over the blond’s body.

“I dreamt I was having sex with von Sedera,” Wolfram muttered sleepily when Eldara was tucking the cover around his shoulders. The blond rolled over onto his back.

“Uh.” Eldara was taken aback by the unexpected revelation. “Really?” He chuckled, amused. “And how was it?”

Wolfram rubbed at his wet eyes. “I think it’s you I should ask. Mine was only a dream.”

Eldara leaned over the bundled figure to take a closer look at his face. “Wolfram, are you really drunk?”

“Mm? I think so. Why?”

Eldara laughed softly. “Never mind.”

“So how was it?”

The duke gave Wolfram a searching look. “Wolfram?” he asked, unsure when the blond pushed himself up with his elbows. He hesitated, and Wolfram was the one to close the distance between their faces. Clumsily, he pressed his lips to Eldara’s. The duke responded to Wolfram’s tentative nibbles on his mouth by capturing the blond’s lips. They kissed until Wolfram’s elbows gave in. Before slumping back into the chaise longue, he threw his arms around Eldara’s shoulders to drag him down with him. The duke huffed, somehow managing to avoid butting his forehead against the younger male’s. And then Wolfram was kissing him again. 

Wolfram was most enthusiastic but he wasn’t a good kisser, and Eldara took over the initiative. Their tongues meshed, Wolfram’s fingers sliding into the duke’s hair, gripping it tightly at his scalp. Blindly, Eldara groped for the cover to push it away from between them. He succeeded only partly, his own body on top of it being the reason. He slid his hand under Wolfram’s shirt, caressing his side and then his stomach, finally, his chest. The blond squirmed under his hand, a needy sound leaving his mouth. The kiss became more aggressive.

The feeling of Eldara’s hands on his skin, sent waves of lust over Wolfram. His breathing hitched, his back arching slightly into the hands caressing his chest and sides. He felt hot and breathless, and all he wanted to do was to press all of himself into the body above him to feel more of it. The other man’s tongue in his mouth made him shiver in lust.

Wolfram was rubbing against him, the blond’s right hand still gripping at his hair. His left hand, though, was stroking his chest. Eldara could feel short but sharp fingernails raking at his skin in feverish need. It soon began groping around his midsection, and he felt it tugging at the belt of his bathrobe.

There was no consideration in Wolfram’s actions, he acted on pure instinct. He rocked his hips against the older male’s, making pleasure course through his body. His impatience skyrocketed when he couldn’t untie the belt even though Eldara had raised his hips slightly off him. He had to let go of the man’s hair to work on the belt with both hands. 

It took Wolfram some time to even realize that his hands were gently being pushed away every time he would take hold of the belt. Seizing fistful of Eldara’s hair again, he opened his eyes to see what was amiss. The duke winced at the demanding grip. The blond tried to force his head down for a kiss, and Eldara tried to pry his fingers out of his hair. Confusion appeared on Wolfram’s face but he didn’t let go. Finally, the duke consented to lowering his head and kissing him. Now Wolfram’s fingers left his hair and slid down his shoulders and over his shoulder blade. Eldara gathered his hair in his left hand and lifted it out of the blond’s reach while breaking the kiss and bending backwards. Panting lightly, he took Wolfram’s wrists in his hands and gently pried his fingers away from the lapels of his bathrobe. Not letting go, he lowered the blond’s arms down onto the cover.

“I think you might regret this tomorrow,” Eldara rasped out softly. He applied more pressure when Wolfram tried to free his wrists. “Wolfram, listen to me,” he repeated trying to sound more stern. “You aren’t thinking clearly. If you want to continue this when you’re sober, I won’t say ‘no’, but now it’s…it’s not a good idea.”

Wolfram stared up at him, his face flushed, pupils dilated, his chest heaving. Eldara wondered if Wolfram would remember any of this in the morning at all. 

“L-let go.”

Hesitant, the duke released the blond’s wrists and slid off the chaise longue. Wolfram didn’t pursue him but his hands slipped under the cover. There was no mistaking their occupation.

Eldara turned away to avoid the demonstrative temptation. He brushed over his long hair in jerky movements, trying to get the mass in order. He wondered what he should do. Sleeping in the same room with Wolfram was out of the question. The thought of returning him to his own room in this state made him cringe – the gossip would spread like fire.

The duke grabbed a pillow and the covers from his bed and dragged everything out into the next room where he dropped them onto the sofa next to the window. He stood silently for a few seconds, trying to get his bearings back then returned to close the doors separating the two rooms. Soft grunts wafting from his bedroom made his hands falter on the doorknobs. He couldn’t believe that he had Wolfram masturbating in the other room. It was probably about the same time when he closed the doors that the blond climaxed.

If he wanted to get at least a wink of sleep, he would have to follow Wolfram’s example. He wasn’t very coherent either, his head was playing only a supplementary role now. The only thing in the center of his perception was the ache between his legs. A way out from this situation would have to be found tomorrow.

\---

Eldara was awakened by a servant knocking on the door, asking whether he would be down for breakfast. After sending the servant away, the duke threw on his bathrobe and went to his bedroom to see how Wolfram felt. The blond’s face was ashen and there were two large vomit stains on the carpet, next to the chaise longue. The handkerchief he had given Wolfram lay about on the floor. Eldara could bet he knew what kind of stains were on it.

The occupant of his bedroom seemed to be asleep and Eldara decided to leave him be for now. He wanted to leave the room, but then the blond shifted, turned to his side moaning and retched. With a frown on his face, Eldara turned away. He crossed both rooms and opened the door to the corridor. Just as expected, there were three Wolfram’s guards, including Fajdal. A few steps away were his own captain and a guard. The duke gave Wolfram’s guards a mirthless smile.

“Good morning, gentlemen.”

“Your Grace.”

Eldara motioned for his captain. “Could you ask my doctor to come, Captain?”

“Right away, Your Grace.”

Eldara nodded. “And it would be nice if somebody cleaned the stains off my carpet. Thank you, that would be all.” He averted his eyes to Wolfram’s guards, who seemed to be very concerned. “No, it’s not von Bielefeld’s blood. However, keeping in mind how much that carpet had cost me, I’d almost prefer it.”

“Can we see him, Your Grace?” Fajdal asked, already moving forward.

The duke walked past the doorway, letting him pass. “By all means, Captain. But it’s best you don’t move him around; he doesn’t feel well.” Wolfram was probably mostly naked under the cover as well, but that wasn’t the information Eldara wanted to share with others.

Fajdal was taken aback by the sight in the duke’s bedroom. 

“It’s probably alcohol poisoning,” Eldara said, what he presumed, was pretty obvious.

“He galloped all the way back from the town to the castle, Your Grace,” Fajdal told him. “Just took one of the horses and sped right back without waiting for his escort.”

The duke gave Wolfram one more look. Maybe this was much more serious than it seemed. Wolfram was still supposed to avoid straining activities. In any case, there was nothing he could do for him now. He motioned at the carafe on the reading table. “It’s water in case he wants something to drink. My doctor should come within half an hour. Until he comes, I’ll leave His Highness in your care.” He went to his wardrobe to get his clothes. “If you need me, I’ll be having breakfast downstairs.”

Fajdal bowed his head. “Yes, thank You, Your Grace.”

TBC


	20. Part 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Kyou Kara Maou! – It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I’m not making any money from writing it.  
> Warnings: yaoi (male x male), violence, swearing, angst, drama. Wolfram-centric, out of character, original character.  
> Summary: With Yuuri’s upcoming birthday, Wolfram makes his decision. Where will it lead him and what is to become of them? Should eventually be Yuuri x Wolfram.  
> A/N 1: Yuuri – 18 years old. Wolfram – 20. Eldara – 31. Halea – 20. Athara – 18.  
> A/N 2: Greta doesn’t exist.  
> A/N 3: European/American/Japanese standards all at once depending on the plot requirements.  
> A/N 4: A tendency to ignore the anime/manga and supplement the story with my own imagined facts.   
> A/N 5: Season III is not taken into consideration, except for the fact that Wolfram’s uncle exists.  
> A/N 6: The umlaut in Gunter’s name is a bother.

**Bloom**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Tia Integra

Part 20

The doctor arrived within half an hour. He examined Wolfram, managed to extract a few hardly coherent words out of his mouth, then reported his diagnosis to the duke.

“Well?” Eldara inquired as the doctor settled on a chair in front of his desk.

The man lowered his bag onto the floor, then straightened. “Drunk as a skunk, Your Grace,” he stated his verdict. “I’ve left some medicine for His Highness to drink every half an hour. Even if most of it will come back up, it should start taking effect in an hour or two and the stomach spasms will stop. Otherwise, there’s not much I can do for him, Your Grace. It will probably take about a week for his body to regain the balance. I’ll compose a special diet for him.”

“That would be fantastic, Doctor. I was told, though, that he galloped all the way from the town to the castle. Could this have added to his current state?”

“I’m positive it could have, Your Grace. But all I can do for that is to give His Highness some medicine for headache.”

“Which he’ll throw up.”

“Yes.”

Eldara brushed over his forehead. “Haaahh. He’s going to give me a stomach ulcer.” 

“First he’s going to get one himself, Your Grace. Demons and alcohol don’t mix well. _Both_ of you will have ulcers, a burning castle or both.” The doctor shook his head and said softly: “He drinks too much.”

“Yes,” Eldara agreed solemnly. He leaned back into his chair with a loud sigh. The doctor was giving him a questioning look. “I tried. He doesn’t listen to me.”

“What about his suite? His captain? Yozak Gurrier?”

“They don’t seem to have that kind of influence on him.”

“Then, I think that it would be a good idea, Your Grace, to subtly mention this problem to his brother Gwendal von Voltaire.”

“Yes, I’ve thought of that, but then, I don’t want to be accused of being a snitch.” The duke shrugged dismissively. “I’m certain that Wolfram’s newest captain will be forced to report these events to von Voltaire. If he doesn’t, I’ll subtly but firmly encourage him.”

The doctor smiled. “That should work, Your Grace.”

The duke tapped his fingers on the desk. “Can you guess how von Bielefeld will react if I have Halea heal him?”

The doctor thought about this for a moment. “I’m certain his reaction will not be unpleasant, Your Grace,” he said. However, the duke could hear uncertainly in his voice. “Healing magic is commonly practiced all over Shin Makoku.”

“I see.”

“What I mean, Your Grace,” the doctor continued, “is that he won’t refuse. However, I’m not certain he would be very glad to be treated by Halea.”

“Yes, I am aware that, according to Shin Makoku’s standards, she’s an inept healer.”

“I’m afraid, Your Grace, that in Shin Makoku she wouldn’t be granted a medical residency at all.”

“That’s harsh. Well, I’ll try talking to her. I’m certain that there will be no harm in applying her healing magic.”

The doctor smiled. “It won’t be much help either.”

Eldara rose and approached the door. Outside his study, as usual, there was one guard. He asked him to call for Halea and returned to his chair at the desk. He leaned forward and laced his fingers. 

“There’s one more thing I would like to ask you, Doctor,” he started.

“Yes, Your Grace, there are a few things I wanted to ask you myself.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, I couldn’t help noticing, Your Grace, that His Highness was in your bedroom. I was told he spent the night there.”

“Yes, during which he vomited all over my carpet and then slept like a baby.”

The doctor’s eyebrows rose up meaningfully. “With his pants down?”

“Yes, with his pants down. If a man has an urge to take his pants off, who am I to stop him?”

“Indeed, Your Grace.”

Eldara sighed. “Did any of his guards see that?”

“I don’t think so, Your Grace. Unlike a certain someone, I handled that with utmost care. My advice would be to be more cautious with such embroilments. Unless Your Grace means it. There’s no need to goad Gwendal von Voltaire into fury, is there, Your Grace?”

“I shall make you my political advisor.”

The doctor grinned. “I believe ‘political’ is not the right word here.”

“Gods, and how could my father stand you?”

“I did tell you, Your Grace, that he couldn’t. Now, what was Your Grace wanted to discuss with me?”

“Mmm… Never mind.” Eldara decided he more or less had unraveled the answers himself. He had two hypotheses of his own of why a man could be so disgusted with woman’s touch: first, the feeling was instilled since childhood. Second, at some point there might have been some kind of mental trauma. The second version seemed to be the most plausible. Eldara stood up, rounded his desk and held out his hand. “Thank you, Doctor.”

The doctor took the outstretched hand and shook it.

“Only doing my job, Your Grace.”

Eldara saw the doctor out of his study then returned to the chair at his desk. He cast a look over two neat stacks of documents, found the one he had been reading before he was interrupted by the doctor and continued to study it.

Halea entered his study five minutes later. After listening to what her brother had to say, she gave him a skeptical look.

“I’m certain that healing magic isn’t supposed to be used like this.”

Eldara pushed the documents aside and folded his hands on the desk. “Like what?”

“Like helping someone who got shit-faced at a whorehouse.”

“Language, Halea.” At first, the duke thought she was joking but the stubborn look on her face made him realize that she was serious. He shook his head. “Oh, for gods’ sakes! The man saved your life!”

“Most likely it would have only been a kidnapping.”

“Halea, what are you saying?”

“Eldara, I have my principles. He got what he deserved.”

When his sister marched out of his study, Eldara exhaled loudly and leaned back into the backrest as he shook his head in disbelief.

“Women.”

\---

In the evening, when Wolfram had finally recovered enough to be able to interact with other people, he became determined about moving to his own room. Shame washed over him paralleling his improving health. Eldara should have directed his guards to send him to sleep instead of letting him into his chambers. The details evaded him but Wolfram remembered two things clearly: first, he had been blabbering about his brothers; second, he and Eldara had been up to some hanky panky. Considering how drunk he was, he remembered quite a lot. A little more than he liked, in fact. He wished to bury his head in the chaise longue, so he would never have to look at the duke again.

Wolfram brushed over his upper teeth with his tongue. He remembered Eldara’s tongue in his mouth. All he could taste now was the faint flavor of his own vomit. 

Lovely.

Frowning, Wolfram wrapped his head with a cover so that only his eyes were peeking out from under it. He still felt awful. He didn’t want to move anywhere but it was evening already and soon Eldara would return to his chambers. Keeping in mind the circumstances, it would be both impolite and insolent to continue to hog his bedroom. There was also his guard, watching over him.

The duke hadn’t come to check on him. Well, probably he had, but he had been asleep then. This was going to be quite awkward.

“Your Highness?”

Wolfram peeked at the guard who had come closer. “What is it?”

“It’s time to take your medicine, Sir.”

“Ugh.” Wolfram shifted so that he was half-sitting. The guard poured dark liquid out of a small green bottle into a mug. “Where’s the nurse?” Wolfram inquired. “Are you instead of her?”

“Yes, Sir. I don’t know the details but it seems there’s an emergency in town. But there’s no need to worry – she left clear instructions with me.”

Wolfram rolled his eyes. The action made him flinch in pain that shot up above his left eye. Of course there was nothing to worry about – it was only a major hangover, and he deserved it. There was still alcohol poisoning to consider, but he felt much better than in the morning. He wouldn’t die. His guards believed him too self-centered.

The blond wrapped his fingers around the mug that contained stinky liquid. He smelled it and immediately regretted the action. He drank it all without further ado. The inside of his mouth shriveled at the shocking bitterness. Wolfram pushed the mug back into his guard’s hands. Grimacing, he lay back down. A soft clink indicated that the guard lowered the mug onto the reading table.

“You said she left you instructions,” Wolfram wondered. “How did she do that?”

“I speak the local language, Sir. My father is from Raizgad.”

“Ah.” Wolfram closed his eyes tiredly. He didn’t even want to think about moving from the chaise longue. “How did he get to Shin Makoku?”

“He took part in the Derington’s battle, Sir. He was wounded and it took him a lot of time to recover. My mother used to be a nurse. Well, later they settled in a remote, hardly populated area.”

“I see. So you’re half-Demon.” 

“Yes, Sir.”

Wolfram sighed. And yet it seemed that no matter where he looked, the world was populated with half-breeds. The changes were coming and he was powerless to stop them. When he and Yuuri had become engaged, he had considered that maybe there was no need or/and point in stopping them. Even Conrart…

The blond snuggled into the covers.

He woke up to the sounds of someone walking around and pushed the covers off his face to see Eldara talking to his guard in Karderian. Even if he couldn’t understand a word, it was clear that they were talking about him. They probably wanted to move him to his room. Obviously, it was late in the evening, the candles were burning and it was dark outside the windows.

“Did you write to my brother?” Wolfram asked the duke as the latter approached him after noticing that he was awake.

“You mean His Highness Gwendal von Voltaire? No, I didn’t. But your newly appointed captain did.”

Wolfram groaned and covered his face with his hands. He couldn’t believe it had come to that – he should have dealt with this first thing after coming round. Even though it probably wouldn’t have worked – technically, his soldiers answered to Gwendal, he came after.

“You know, if your captain hadn’t written that letter, I would have done so myself,” Eldara said. “Wolfram, you have a problem. Gwendal von Voltaire is probably the only one who can convince you of that, though.”

“What business is that of yours?” Wolfram spat.

The duke gave him a dry smile, his eyes suddenly flashing coldly. “The same business you had with me and von Sedera,” he said curtly. He shot Wolfram an irate look and the blond could only listen in a quiet stupor. “I see you are well enough to be able to talk back. However, since I’m not at all interested in arguing with you, why not move back to your own room? You can happily drink yourself to death there.”

It was the first time Wolfram witnessed Eldara’s temper directed towards him. This had become too personal, and the duke didn’t tolerate such impertinence. Wolfram decided it was best not to retaliate further so as not to make the situation worse. Silently, he watched the duke walk over to his wardrobe to retrieve his bathrobe.

Eldara heard the blond shuffle about on the chaise longue then heard the soft patter of bare feet on the carpet and out of the room. Soon the guard followed. 

\---

Next morning, by the time Wolfram woke up, breakfast was already over. He felt somewhat weak but his head had stopped throbbing. On his way to the baths, he was delivered two letters. One was from Gwendal, the other from Yuuri. Wolfram bathed all the while being a little anxious but looking forward to reading them. He could only guess what Yuuri wrote in answer to his letter. Except for informing him about Shin Makoku’s state affairs, Gwendal probably wouldn’t mention anything else in his letter.

He had a light meal for breakfast and then finally opened Gwendal’s letter.

_Dear Wolfram,_

_Thank you for your letter of 24th Frostfall, 3569. It found us all in good health and uplifted our spirits._  
How is your stay in Raizgad? Your health? Can you use your fire element without any restrictions?   
I heard the rumor about your and Lady Halea von Ashira’s engagement. His Grace Eldara von Ashira is easily amused, isn’t he?   
There is no need to deny the rumor, though, as, first, it will only make it more credible, and second, your stay in Raizgad seems to work wonders on our and Kardera’s trade. We have received three letters from different dukedoms of Kardera. Medran and Hadel offer to open trade routes for importing tobacco, which was met most enthusiastically by some of our noble houses. Certainly, this is only the beginning. I am most interested in the trade offered by Arklend. I am certain you are familiar with His Grace Neryan von Sedera. I have received his letter a few moments ago, in which he offers an open route for sugar if we agree to trade wool with him. I have made sure to send a request letter to His Majesty Orinth the Fifth, but I am certain that I will receive a confirmation that those letters were sent with His Majesty’s agreement.   
Express my utmost thanks to His Grace for me. 

_Best wishes,  
Gwendal von Voltaire_

_P.S. Mother sends her blessings and wishes all the best with your new fiancée._

Wolfram rolled his eyes. He lowered the letter to the table. For a minute he continued to silently stare at the bowl of apples in front of him. Whatever reasons Eldara had behind starting the rumor, it had served well. In fact, he suspected that, even if mostly Eldara had wanted to amuse himself, he had known the consequences very well. The duke’s command over the art of manipulation should never be underestimated.

It seemed that the news of a bedridden Yozak, and his infringement of the palace vault hadn’t reached Gwendal yet. It seemed that von Sedera had sent his letter to Gwendal prior to his audience with von Ashira. His offer was beneficial to both sides, and Gwendal intended to accept it as soon as he received the confirmation from Orinth the Fifth.

The blond resurfaced from his thoughts and focused on the second letter that rested on the table. He dreaded opening it. Finally, he took a paper knife and opened the letter. He stretched it out in front of him.

_Dear Wolfram,_

_I’m sorry my previous letter upset you. Believe me, that wasn’t my intention. I was just trying to sound optimistic. I’m guilty of many things and I wish I could visit Raizgad and talk to you but it seems that isn’t possible. I asked Gwendal, and he said that it would be a bad idea. I hope your health soon improves so you can return home._  
The thing with Halea von Ashira is disconcerting but Gwendal says that you don’t need to worry. It seems that he’s certain that it’s only a rumor. He also said it’s beneficial to Shin Makoku.  
Can you use your fire element? What about your sword? Is your hand all right? I intended to send Gisela to Raizgad, but Gunter stopped me. He said that such an action would be insulting. I can still do that if you need her. Just say the word.  
I’m certain you’ll hear about the state affairs from Gwendal, so I’ll leave them out. I’ll just say that it’s been snowing like mad and it’s unbelievably boring in the castle. I wish you were here so we could go sledging like we did last winter.  
There’s nothing else to write about unless you want to hear about Anissina’s latest The Automatic Stool for Ironing and Folding Clothes invention. She burnt Gwendal’s uniform and half of her laboratory as well. I was just in time to extinguish the fire. It will take time to clean it so hopefully this will delay her creating new inventions. 

_Best wishes,  
Yuuri_

Wolfram read Yuuri’s letter twice and then just sat staring at it. He felt guilty for worrying Yuuri, for making him feel the way he did. Yuuri’s letter bore apology and wish to conciliate. Yuuri felt guilty. Wolfram yearned to see his former fiancé, to talk to him, to just make it all better somehow. However, there wasn’t any point in them meeting each other. Both of them knew why it had come to this. Their seeing each other would not change anything, it would just make everything worse.

Wolfram reached for the carafe and poured himself a glass of water. He drank it slowly as he contemplated his reply to Yuuri. The king sought truce with him, told him that they were still friends. Were they, though? It was easy for Yuuri to think of them as friends because, to Yuuri, he had never been anything more. To him, though, Yuuri had always been more than that – he had always wished Yuuri for a lover. Was it really possible for them to stay friends? Yuuri had no problems with that and, politically, it would be unwise to break off all ties with the king. However, it would probably be best not to ever meet Yuuri again. At least not in the next three years.

It took Wolfram a little more than an hour to write the replies to both Yuuri and Gwendal. He breathed no word of his “adventure” in the brothel two days ago. He dreaded receiving Gwendal’s letters addressing this and the incident concerning the Esoteric Stones.

By the time Wolfram was done, it was time for lunch. He joined the family at the table. He was asked about his health, which, he answered was as best as it could be, given his recent endeavors. Everyone acted as if nothing had happened: Athara shot him a few curious glances but said nothing; Eldara, Halea and Fredrick von Sarda discussed Fredrick’s departure. Wolfram perked up when he found out that, in two weeks time, there was an event celebrating Eldara’s 32nd birthday. Von Sarda was leaving now so that he would be able to return before then and attend the festivity.

“Your birthday is in about a month, isn’t it?” Halea asked.

It took time for Wolfram to realize that the question had called upon him. Wondering why Halea knew something like this, he nodded. “Yes, on Snowgale the tenth.”

“Oh, only a week later than mine,” Eldara said. “Then let it be a double celebration.”

Now Wolfram realized that this had been arranged beforehand. There wasn’t any particular reason to object the suggestion and he agreed with a nod. “Yes, it’s a good idea.”

“It’s settled, then,” Eldara said. “You should start composing a guest list.”

Wolfram shrugged. “It will be very short. I’m not going to have people travel by sea in such a cold weather on my account.”

“Even so, you’ll need to send invitations in advance.”

Wolfram nodded. “I’ll present it in the evening.”

“Tomorrow evening,” Eldara corrected him. “There is no need to hurry.”

The blond rewarded Eldara with a smile for the time extension but inwardly wondered if the duke, knowing that his list would consist of two or one person, had just mocked him. Maybe he was just being paranoid. In fact, he really wasn’t planning on inviting anyone at all – he didn’t know anyone in Kardera.

“The king will be here, too,” Halea said.

Wolfram first thought she meant Yuuri but then realized that she was talking about Orinth the Fifth. He rolled his eyes inwardly. No surprises there. The king had to show he supported von Ashira’s policy. Actually, Wolfram was looking forward to meeting him. He was curious about the man.

The rest of the lunch was spent discussing the arrangements due for the upcoming party. Even though he was being encouraged by both Halea and Eldara, Wolfram hardly participated in the planning as he believed that the only guests who would attend his birthday celebration would be his suite.

When they had eaten and started dispersing, Wolfram noticed Athara lingering, probably with an intention of having a word with him. To avoid that, Wolfram had excused himself to go and see the captain of his guards. That was mostly true, though.

\---

Yozak turned to the door where Wolfram appeared. 

“You don’t look so well,” Yozak said.

“Neither do you.”

Yozak rolled his eyes. He shifted to one side of the sofa, leaving the other end for Wolfram to sit. He didn’t feel well indeed. He had gotten much better but still felt weak and suffered spells of dizziness.

“I wish you could return to your duties,” Wolfram complained, sitting down.

“Why? Aren’t you content with Fajdal’s service?”

Wolfram grimaced at that. Before coming to Yozak, he had visited the captain and held a short conference with him. “I’ll put it simply,” he said. “I don’t like him.”

“You don’t like me either.”

“That’s true, but I know you and trust your skill. And I don’t know him. In addition, he’s a half-breed.”

“So am I.”

Wolfram glared at Yozak. “I’m aware of that. Do you want to hear what I have to say or not?”

“Yes, Your Highness, I do.”

Wolfram ignored the mocking tone. “I think he’s already under the duke’s influence and...”

“Wolfram, this is a serious accusation. What gives you the reason to claim so?”

“He admitted that he and Eldara are having conversations. It seems they are influencing his decisions.”

Yozak waited for Wolfram to explain what decisions concerned him but the blond didn’t. Then it dawned on Yozak and he chuckled. “You mean how they talked about you getting shit-faced at the whorehouse and then Fajdal writing an exhaustive letter about that to your brother?”

Wolfram glared at him again. “Yes. What business is it of theirs?”

Yozak slapped his knee, leering at the blond. “Are you serious? Fajdal is the captain of your suite and is responsible for your well-being. And you’re His Grace’s guest, which means that if anything happens to you, he will be held responsible against your and his own king.” He grinned. “I’d tie you up and put in a cellar if I were them. So that you can cause yourself no harm.”

“Then I probably should be happy you aren’t my captain anymore,” Wolfram said coldly.

“If I had been your captain,” Yozak said calmly, “I’d have gone into that whorehouse and dragged you out of there by your hair.”

“Well, it’s not that I’ve enjoyed myself there!” Wolfram snapped at him. “Why do you think I got drunk like that?”

“Then why the hell did you stay there?”

“Common courtesy!”

“Oh, right. Now you suddenly became an expert in common courtesy.”

“Yozak! How dare you?!”

Yozak rolled his eyes. “Fine. Actually, I wanted to inform you – just so you don’t think the duke is the only one sticking his nose into your business – that I talked to Fajdal as well and we agreed that wine does you no good and that you’re not to drink anymore.”

Wolfram stared at him, gauging his words.

“I’m dead serious, Wolfram,” Yozak confirmed. He saw the blond’s emerald eyes widen in shock. This was a breach of all existing protocols. He regretted having to handle Wolfram in such a manner but it was becoming increasingly obvious that there was no other way.

“Just like that?” Wolfram asked in a minute.

Yozak nodded. “Just like that. And, if you don’t want to cause any embarrassing scenes in von Ashira’s house, you will obey.”

“Amazing,” Wolfram said, glowering at him. “What’s this? A mutiny?”

“Oh, no, no,” Yozak laughed, waving his hands in front of him as if to deny he could _ever_ have thoughts of disobeying the blond. “We’re just servants concerned about our master’s health.”

“Your insolence has no boundaries.”

Yozak grinned at him. “I certainly hope so.”

“What if I report you?”

“You know,” Yozak said in a serious voice, but hardly managing to keep himself from smiling, “I thought about that that, too. I came to the conclusion that you brother would award us with medals.”

Wolfram thought for a moment. “He would,” he agreed then. “Even more – you’d rise in rank. Bastards, all of you.”

Yozak inclined his head. “At your service.”

TBC


	21. Part 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Kyou Kara Maou! – It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I’m not making any money from writing it.  
> Warnings: yaoi (male x male), violence, swearing, angst, drama. Wolfram-centric, out of character, original character.  
> Summary: With Yuuri’s upcoming birthday, Wolfram makes his decision. Where will it lead him and what is to become of them? Should eventually be Yuuri x Wolfram.  
> A/N 1: Yuuri – 18 years old. Wolfram – 20. Eldara – 31. Halea – 20. Athara – 18.  
> A/N 2: Greta doesn’t exist.  
> A/N 3: European/American/Japanese standards all at once depending on the plot requirements.  
> A/N 4: A tendency to ignore the anime/manga and supplement the story with my own imagined facts.   
> A/N 5: Season III is not taken into consideration, except for the fact that Wolfram’s uncle exists.  
> A/N 6: The umlaut in Gunter’s name is a bother.

**Bloom**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Tia Integra

Part 21

The double birthday celebration was going to take place in two days and the castle was bustling. First guests were going to arrive only tomorrow morning but thousands of things had to be done before that. The entire week had been busier than Wolfram was used to and during these past days he literally had to tread carefully so that the running and scurrying servants wouldn’t crash into him. This reminded him of the hectic preparations for Yuuri’s birthday. His memories of the occasion were hazy but a very unpleasant feeling accompanied them. Hopefully, this birthday wouldn’t be as devastating to him as the other one had been.

As intended, Wolfram did not send any invitations and didn’t expect anyone apart from his suite to celebrate his birthday. He would have liked for his family to attend but it would be too much to ask them to make a journey through the constantly stormy sea, not to speak of the dangers of them being in Kardera’s territory.

A loud gruff voice suddenly echoed in the hall. It caught the blond’s attention and he turned his head to see Yozak and Karela Ine, the captain of the duke’s palace guards, engaged in a heated discussion, their hands waving about. This had been constant since the past three days: Yozak and Karela had been obstinately arguing about the best way to ensure the safety during the long-lasting banquet. In the beginning, the servants and the guards used to flinch whenever their voices rose, but soon they stopped paying them any attention. It seemed that, for some reason, both captains grated on each other’s nerves. Usually Yozak was good at dealing with people – a smile here, a laugh there and he got away with anything. However, it was obvious that the duke’s captain was much more difficult to deal with than Yozak was used to and it irritated the redhead to no end; it was mostly Yozak going berserk while Karela just stared willfully at him and refused to bend even an inch.

Yozak still hadn’t completely recovered and took breaks of an hour or two to rest during the day. He and Fajdal had split their duties, Yozak taking the responsibility for security during the party while Fajdal took care of daily supervising. Constant disagreements with Karela exhausted Yozak as well. Wolfram had asked Yozak if he should talk about Karela with the duke but that had only earned him the soldier’s spiteful glare. Actually, Wolfram had suggested that only half-joking and had predicted Yozak’s reaction beforehand.

From high above on the stairway, Wolfram watched Yozak trying to explain something to the other captain. Karela appeared to be bored with whatever the half-Demon said. With a sigh, Wolfram leaned on the railing. Ruffling through his hair absently, he wondered if he should just go and tell Yozak he needed him for one or another reason. That would take care of it.

The blond was bored. Dying of boredom, in fact. Eldara was submerged in organizing the banquet and hardly had time for him. After that incident in the brothel, feeling that he had given away about himself much more than he should ever have, Athara avoided him. And, since Fredrick was finally back in Kardera, Halea spent her time with him.

He would have loved to fix himself a drink or two, but he could only dream of it. Yozak and Fajdal were watching him like hawks. Eldara had also made sure that liquor bottles weren’t even placed near him during meals. These past two weeks he had not taken a sip. Wolfram had been angry about their insolence at first, furious at best, however, he knew why they were doing this. He could protest, deny conviction, but, in the end, he had to admit to himself that external interference had been necessary. Then he had received Gwendal’s letter. He still cringed every time he remembered it. His brother was furious to hear about his drunken endeavors in an Esoteric Stone vault, not to mention the brothel. He had threatened that one more similar incident and he would come to Kardera personally to make sure he behaved, and no armies could stop him. Wolfram had no doubts about that.

It would probably never matter how old he was – Gwendal would always be able to intimidate him. Wolfram rolled his eyes at the ceiling. It was only natural – Gwendal was like a father figure to him, and who wanted to incur their father’s wrath?

Yozak and Karela finally appeared to have reached a compromise: Karela stopped looking bored and Yozak’s voice had toned down. Soon they were enthusiastically nodding their heads at everything the other would say. Yozak even clapped the other captain’s shoulder a few times. As a rule, this truce was fleeting – Wolfram gave them two minutes to find something else to disagree about.

“Hmm? What are you looking at so intently?”

Wolfram started and turned his head to see Eldara standing behind him, looking at the ceiling he had been looking at a second ago. Because the two captains created such a ruckus, he had not heard the man approach.

Wolfram shook his head. “I was just thinking.”

“You look positively bored.”

“Mm, well, yes,” Wolfram admitted reluctantly. He knew that the duke would not take this personally but it still made him uncomfortable. They had never talked about what happened in Eldara’s bedroom, had never even mentioned it, in fact. Wolfram hadn’t apologized for his later outburst either, but he had a feeling that the duke had decided it had only been stress. All in all, their relationship hadn’t changed at all. Wolfram was glad and relieved about that.

“What would you say about a spar?” Eldara suggested with a motion at the blond’s right hand. “It’s healed now, isn’t it?” He couldn’t help chuckling at the way Wolfram’s eyes sparkled. The blond loved swordplay. He had heard that the blond had already made a few attempts at sparring with men from his suite. He had been told that, even if a little bit rusty after such a long break, the blond was as good as the rumors suggested.

“But aren’t you busy?”

“I have promised you a spar, haven’t I? Besides, if I spend one more second trying to figure out how to arrange the seats so that everyone is happy with their neighbor, I’ll have to kill myself.”

“A pain in the butt all these parties, if you ask me,” Wolfram said, pushing himself off the railing. He started climbing down, the duke falling into step beside him.

“Yes, I’ve noticed that you don’t particularly like such gatherings. Well, neither do I.”

“They’re kind of…fake, aren’t they?”

“Yes,” the duke agreed. “These birthdays are a formality I’m not fond of.”

“Yet they create good opportunities for strengthening current and seeking out new contacts.”

Eldara nodded. “That’s their main purpose - business. And showing off women’s dresses,” he added, amused.

“I’m certain it’s not only women.”

The duke grinned. “Are your clothes ready? It would be a pity if you could not emerge in all your splendor.”

“You’re going to get it for this one,” Wolfram notified him good-naturedly. “I’ll stab you in the foot.”

“Don’t worry. However you dress, I’m certain you’ll look stunning.”

“Or the eye,” the blond threatened.

Eldara chuckled. He led the way downstairs past the Esoteric Stone vault, to the last room in the corridor. On their way, Fajdal saw them and started to follow; he always stayed near Wolfram even when the blond was unaware. 

The duke opened the door to the training room and a gust of cool air whisked past Wolfram’s face. There was a fireplace in the room, but it was lit only in the mornings to make the temperature bearable. Otherwise, the men were expected to keep themselves warm through their exercises. In the summer, this room was hardly ever used since everyone trained in the yard.

Being the last one to enter, Fajdal shut the door softly behind him. Wolfram headed for the nearby rack that held the weapons. He had already been in the training room several times in hopes of seeing the duke spar with his men. His attempts at gauging Eldara’s skill, however, had been for naught since all he had managed to see had been the duke’s men sparring among themselves. Later, he had come here to watch the men from his own suite. Needless to say that he had been impressed. When he had tried sparring against one of the new men Gwendal had sent, he ended up on his ass the first minute. It was mostly because he hadn’t held a sword in quite some time now but it was still impressive.

The blond picked up one of the wooden training swords from the rack and the duke did the same. Watching Wolfram flexing and unflexing his fingers around the handle, Fajdal leant against the wall next to the door. Wolfram wasn’t in his best of shapes – his sword-hand was rather stiff after such a long break. He doubted von Bielefeld stood a chance against the duke - he had asked Yozak and other men who could have seen the duke fight, and, those who said they had, said von Ashira was a formidable opponent.

Eldara shrugged his dark brown military jacket off and hung it on the coat rack near the door. He rolled his shoulders and swung the sword a few times to check if the white frilly shirt was comfortable to fight in. Wolfram followed his example and slid out of his jacket as well; it seemed that Eldara was taking the spar seriously. The blond realized that the man must have also done his research on him. This was going to be most satisfying.

They took several minutes to warm up, then stood facing each other. Wolfram attacked first, his sword drawing a high arc above his head. The wooden blade was parried, sliding down the edge of Eldara’s sword with a rattle. The duke swung himself back, freeing his sword and attempted a backwards swing. Wolfram ducked. The air whooshed above his head and, if this were a real blade, now his hair would be even shorter.

The blond thrust upwards and, his sword still not ready to parry the blow, Eldara clumsily hopped sideways. Wolfram’s sword swung upwards to gain momentum then went for Eldara’s head. The duke parried the blow but the sheer force of it made his hand numb. Grunting, he pushed back, employing all his strength. He twisted his sword, shoving the younger man backwards. Wolfram stumbled, but managed to roll over instead of flopping down onto his backside. In a second, he was facing Eldara again.

The duke parried the blow that aimed for his midsection. He retaliated and they exchanged bouts of succeeding attacks, neither giving in, trying to corner each other. Eldara was impressed. He had expected Wolfram to be good but not _this_ good. To think that the blond must still be rusty! And there was also an eleven-year difference between them to consider.

“You’re better than you’ve told me,” Wolfram pointed out as they circled each other, looking for an opening to attack.

“You haven’t been very accurate either,” Eldara noted. “If I had known, I would have tried to force you into this hall earlier, injuries or not. We’ve wasted time needlessly.”

Wolfram grinned. “I feel the same way.”

“Who trained you?”

“Mainly my brothers, but I think I’ve received a lesson or two from nearly every soldier who has ever served in the castle.”

“Right. Conrart Weller. Correct me if I am wrong, but he’s considered one of the best swordsmen in Shin Makoku, isn’t he?”

The blond nodded. Eldara obviously wanted to continue the conversation but Wolfram charged at him, cutting the flow of anything he might have said, off. He didn’t particularly want to go there. The mention of Conrart’s, just as Yuuri’s, name made him uncomfortable.

Fajdal had seen Wolfram’s swordplay many times but it was still a sight to behold. It was even more impressive when he faced such a strong opponent. The long years of training lessons with both Conrart and Gwendal had paid off spectacularly. The blond was gifted. He would have been even better, however, if he had continued his training sessions with Conrart. Fajdal didn’t know what exactly happened but, at one point, Wolfram and Conrart fell out. It happened years ago but even now, they hardly spoke to each other. There had been many attempts to reconcile them but they had only made Wolfram angry.

Eldara ducked the blow aimed for his head and lashed out at the blond’s side. Wolfram whirled sideways and managed to block the other man’s sword at the last second. The duke pushed, though, forcing him backwards, and the blond’s sword was in an uncomfortable position for him to effectively withstand the pressure.

Step by step Wolfram was forced back, the wall getting closer and closer. Both men were gritting their teeth in exertion, their foreheads glistening with sweat. The blond tried to shift his sword and raise it higher so that his wrist wouldn’t be bent in such an awkward position but the duke didn’t give in. Then Wolfram leaned his upper body backwards as far as he could to keep out of Eldara’s sword reach. His feet performed a strange dance when he whirled around suddenly. 

The duke’s sword pierced the air where the blond’s thigh was a fraction of a second ago. Wolfram fell down, unbalanced in his attempt to avoid the sword. He hit the wooden floor with a soft thud but quickly lifted himself off it with his left palm. His right leg swiftly shot up, his foot catching Eldara on the back of his knee. The duke stumbled and fell forward, his left leg folding itself under him. Then Wolfram’s booted feet struck his chest with such force that Eldara flew a few meters backwards.

Fajdal barely managed to keep himself from whistling when the duke’s back painfully crashed onto the floor. The man hadn’t let go of his sword but the impact had dizzied him and he was too late to effectively block Wolfram’s incoming sword. He managed to brush it aside but had to fend it off continuously until he somehow was finally able to get on his left knee. Wolfram, however, didn’t give him an opportunity to stand up. He slashed at Eldara again. The duke managed to block but the blond shoved with all his might and Eldara toppled backwards. Wolfram followed him, grabbing at his right wrist to prevent him from lifting his sword again. He held his own sword pressed against the duke’s neck.

“Impressive,” Eldara said, his breathing rash. “But I have an inkling that your hand-to-hand fights are even more remarkable.” He had seen some of Wolfram’s moves back then in the baths, but the impression had been spoiled by the blond carelessly injuring himself with a glass bottle.

Wolfram blinked his eyes; they were stinging from sweat. “Maybe.” He had a feeling the duke wasn’t all that bad at fighting himself. 

Wolfram hadn’t asked if he gave up, and the duke said nothing. The blond kept him pressed against the floor. He saw the other man swallow against the wooden blade, the sound harsh and clear even while Wolfram’s blood drummed in his ears from the exercise.

The blond slowly became aware of the heat coming from the body underneath him. Panting, he and the duke stared at each other, their lower bodies pressed together. The feeling was vaguely familiar to Wolfram, bringing him two weeks back to Eldara’s bedroom. The sweat and the scent that was unique to the duke filled the blond’s nostrils. The hand holding the wooden practice sword at the duke’s throat trembled lightly when Wolfram leaned in.

Fajdal cleared his throat with a loud jarring sound before Wolfram’s mouth could descend on the duke’s. Wolfram frowned, blinked a few times, and turned to look at his bodyguard. Reddening, the blond removed the sword from Eldara’s throat and stood up. Awkwardly, he held his hand out for the older man, helping him to his feet.

In silence, they returned the practice swords to the stand. Wolfram was first to leave the training hall. He had wanted to propose a spar tomorrow but with what had nearly occurred, he was certain it would sound too suggestive. 

“Have I done the right thing interfering, Sir?” Fajdal asked softly, as he and Wolfram walked away from the training hall.

At first, Wolfram gave him a sharp look, but then his gaze softened. “I don’t know,” he muttered silently. Aware of the curious look Fajdal was giving him, Wolfram rubbed at his sweaty forehead. Honestly, he didn’t know.

\---

“We’ve got a surprise for you,” Halea said to Wolfram at the dinner table. She was all smiles, looking radiant next to von Sarda.

“Really?” Wolfram asked, his voice cheerful, but his face reflecting caution with every muscle.

“You don’t really like surprises, do you?” the duke chuckled. “I can assure you that you will like this one.” He turned to the servant beside him. “Tell them to…”

He was cut off by the door to the dining room bursting open; Gunter von Christ whooshed into the dining room like a flash of lightning.

“Your Highness!” he cried in the throes of pure ecstasy. “Your Highness!” He sprinted straight for Wolfram, who was frozen in his seat, his eyes wide in disbelief. With his hands, Gunter felt Wolfram’s head, shoulders, and chest, then gave one more cry filled with unspeakable joy. “You’re alright, Your Highness!” Then the familiar scent of shampoo and cologne enveloped the blond altogether in Gunter’s arms.

“Yes, I’m alright, Gunter. Just fine, really,” Wolfram laughed softly, patting the other man on his back. “You’re crushing me, Gunter.”

While Wolfram was just as glad to see Gunter, he was dimly aware of stunned looks von Ashiras and von Sarda were giving Gunter and him; it always took time to get used to certain mannerisms of Gunter’s. Wolfram laughed again. Then, over the lavender-haired man’s shoulder he caught a movement and gasped.

“Mother.”

“Wolfram, dear,” Cecilie von Spitzweg said, “I’m rather insulted you didn’t think of inviting us to your birthday party.” Her pointy nose scrunched in distaste. “Inconceivable!”

Wolfram gave her an amiable smile. “Mother.”

“Well,” she said, “I suppose it couldn’t be helped.”

Gunter had let go of Wolfram and he stood up. Spreading his arms, he approached Cecilie, whose eyes had suddenly turned watery. “Mother.” He grunted when she grabbed him into a painful hug. Closing his eyes, Wolfram returned the embrace. Sweet smell that was unique only to her encircled him and with that came unbidden tears.

“Oh, Wolfie, dear, I was so worried about you!”

Afraid that his voice would shake, Wolfram didn’t answer. They stayed like that for a few more moments then Cecilie pushed her son away and, holding him by his shoulders, gave the young man an appraising look.

“You seem well,” she said, smiling. “You grew. Now you look just like your father. So handsome and well-built!”

Feeling overwhelmed, Wolfram reddened in embarrassment. “Mother.” Everybody knew that he looked just like her, only a male version. It was beyond him why she had always kept insisting he looked like his father. The only thing they had in common was blond hair.

“Please, take seats and join us,” Eldara invited his guests, motioning at the table. He, his siblings and von Sarda were standing. There were no introductions and Wolfram realized that they had already met his mother and Gunter earlier.

“When did you arrive?” Wolfram asked his mother, when all of them were comfortably seated, their plates being filled by servants.

“About an hour ago. The journey was exhausting, and Eldara, being a sweetheart that he is, suggested we refresh ourselves in the baths before meeting you.”

Blinking, Wolfram turned to Eldara, who smiled at him. ‘Wolfie’, he mouthed soundlessly, saluting the blond with his glass, making him turn away quickly and concentrate on his mother again. It seemed that his mother had the liberty in the ways of naming people. 

Cecilie related to him that they had received the invitations to both the birthday parties about two weeks ago, and, once again, Wolfram was assured that the double celebration had been arranged quite some time ago without even asking him. The surprise was really nice, though. He couldn’t help grinning while his mother and Gunter were relating the stories from home. 

“Have you decided on the engagement day?” Cecilie asked Wolfram. “I think the first day of the banquet would be perfect.”

It took Wolfram a few moments to realize whom she meant. Quickly, he gave Halea and Fredrick an apologetic glace. Halea seemed to be amused while von Sarda was visibly alarmed and was about to protest. Wolfram waved his hands in front of him. “No, mother, you misunderstood. Those are just rumors.”

“But the idea is wonderful, isn’t it?” Eldara told Fredrick, causing the younger male’s eyes widen. 

Von Sarda turned to give Halea a perplexed look. She smiled at him sweetly, nodding. “Well, if Fredrick doesn’t mind…”

For a moment, Wolfram thought that Fredrick looked like a hare in a tunnel that was being torn apart by a dozen hungry foxes. In a minute, though, his face cleared and he returned Halea’s smile. “Then let’s announce it,” he said, still uncertainly but obviously already getting used to the idea of such a quick outcome.

Cecilie clapped her hands excitedly. “That’s fantastic!”

“Such good news!” agreed the duke, raising his glass, the toast at the ready. “For the lovely couple, then.”

Congratulations and wishes for the best started pouring like nourishments from the horn of plenty. Halea answered them with a radiant smile, while Fredrick accepted them with more composure. Soon, everybody settled down and continued dining in high spirits. It didn’t slip past Wolfram’s eyes, though, Eldara saluting his mother with his glass. The blond realized then that he hadn’t given his mother enough credit – she had just played hand in hand with the duke. It had only taken a few seconds and von Sarda had suddenly found himself engaged. Were they on such good terms, his mother and Eldara?

“And if we are still on the topic,” Cecilie said in a moment, “have you given the thought to the matter we discussed a few months ago?”

“A few months ago? Was it at His Majesty Yuuri Shibuya’s birthday?” Eldara seemed not to understand what she was talking about. “You will have to forgive me, but what matter are we talking about?”

“The matter of Gwendal, dear. Have you considered marrying him?”

The table went absolutely quiet. To his surprise, Wolfram saw that the duke didn’t appear to be shocked. He churned the wine in his glass with a bored expression on his face. 

“I thought it was agreed that I’m not up to his standards?” he said.

Cecilie chuckled. “Oh my, so you’re still bitter about that.”

Eldara’s eyebrows rose a little and now he looked amused. “I wouldn’t say ‘bitter’. I think it’s closer to ‘enlightened’.”

Wolfram listened, his gaze flitting from his mother to Eldara and back again and then he though that he finally knew why the duke liked to try and annoy Gwendal so much. He didn’t know what exactly had happened between the two, but this was some sort of payback. But then, it was in the duke’s nature to play games with people, so it was probably nothing exceptional.

“Don’t mind him,” Cecilie said. “He was just in a bad mood. You suit each other tremendously! He would make such a good husband!”

“I have no doubts about that,” Eldara said. He took a sip from his glass. “Whoever marries him, will be very lucky. Now let’s discuss the engagement at hand.”

The rest of the evening was spent planning how and when to announce it and then, unnoticeably, the talk turned to the not-faraway wedding. Wolfram was impressed. The more Eldara talked, the more confident and joyful von Sarda became. He was as good as done. In the morning, Fredrick would probably believe that it was he himself who had proposed to Halea.

Tbc


	22. Part 22

**Bloom**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Tia Integra

Part 22

People flowed into the castle for tomorrow’s banquet in throngs. Except catching a glimpse of Eldara here and there, or occasionally recognizing his voice in one of the corridors, Wolfram hadn’t seen him since breakfast. But this time, with his mother and Gunter to keep him company, Wolfram didn’t feel bored. As he showed them around, they told him stories of what transpired at home and he shared some of his own. Although Yuuri had been mentioned a few times sketchily, Wolfram was grateful to them for keeping the King of Shin Makoku off the conversations for the most part.

Gunter eagerly took notes and drew rough sketches of the interior. He intended to share them with Gwendal and maybe adopt some of the designs and inventions in Blood Pledge Castle. Gunter had attracted a few guards’ attention but, after having consulted their captain, they let it go.

It appeared that this wasn’t the first time that Cecilie visited the castle. Her last visit was ten years ago but she still remembered most of the layout. She also said that the furnishing hadn’t changed much, but maybe now there were fewer colors.

“Eldara was absent from home at the time,” she said. “But Halea was such a darling! She was only ten years old back then but was such a lovely child!”

Wolfram rolled his eyes; she was still trying to tease him. “I know that you never believed the rumor about me and her, and just played along with Eldara to pressure von Sarda,” he said reproachfully. “You two make a great team. The poor thing never knew what hit him.”

Gunter’s pen stopped moving, and Cecilie gave Wolfram a probing look. “Was it the duke who told you?”

“No, Mother. I have eyes. And ears, for that matter.”

Cecilie and Gunter exchanged a look before the lavender-haired man continued to sketch in his notebook. Cecilie was about to ask something but was distracted by a racket in the doorway further along the corridor.

“And they are at it again…” Wolfram muttered at the sight of Yozak and Karela arguing. Yozak was pointing somewhere at the ceiling while the other captain’s finger was pointing towards the corridor. Since there were guests around, their voices were lowered, which hardly improved the situation, for now, the two were hissing and spitting at each other like cats.

“They are quite passionate about their work, aren’t they?” Cecilie said after a few moments of observation.

“I think they are more passionate about each other than their work,” Wolfram said, proceeding into the next room. “I remember Gwendal was about to implement a central heating system when I was going to leave for the army. How is that going?”

“It was a good idea to send you to the army,” Cecilie said after a short pause.

“Huh? Well, of course it was,” Wolfram agreed. “Nobody sent me, though. I went off on my own.”

“He finally has the project schemes but decided to wait till spring,” Gunter said. “Some chambers require serious overhaul and it’s best to leave it for warm season.”

Wolfram nodded. “Well, of course. Who made the drawings?”

“He hired the same man who designed the temple for the Goddess of Peace two years ago. What’s his name?” Gunter gave Cecilie a questioning look. “Wilhelm Entram?”

The former queen nodded. “Yes, I believe so. Quite expensive, too.”

“We were told that you will be able to travel home in a month’s time. Maybe earlier,” Gunter said. “So you will be able to watch it all transpire.”

“Probably,” Wolfram agreed. “If I am back from Lesa; I still need four months of service.”

“You’re still planning on going away?” Cecilie asked, incredulous.

“Well, not right away. I will probably visit home for a few weeks and then head back for the fort.”

“That’s a wonderful idea,” Gunter said. “There’s no need to stall, after all.”

Wolfram nodded. “Exactly. And that’s the training hall,” he said, pointing. “It’s used by anyone who wishes to use it. We can have a go if you get bored during your stay.”

Cecilie walked forward to open the door. Six men sparred inside, four of which wore the brown color of Raizgad and the other two, the blue of the land of von Bielefeld. Cecilie was impressed by the camaraderie she noticed among the duke’s men and the soldiers from Shin Makoku – there was no tension at all. It indicated a good relationship between their commanders.

Having satisfied her curiosity, Cecilie closed the door. “And you?” she asked Wolfram. “Do you get bored here?”

“Not really. Maybe sometimes, when…when Eldara is busy,” Wolfram finished laughing. “I don’t think one can get bored with him. He can be pretty annoying but it’s fun. We talk, go riding, just recently started sparring, too.”

From the corner of his eyes, Gunter watched the young man. Gunter, just like the rest of household in Blood Pledge Castle, had believed that the notorious Duke of Raizgad was in one way or another, abusing Wolfram. From the short summaries of various events he had received from Yozak and other men, however, he was under impression that it was mostly Wolfram who was abusing the duke and his hospitality. Also, Fajdal had told him that Wolfram seemed to express a certain interest towards the duke. He didn’t explain anything further but Gunter didn’t like the sound of this situation at all. He wanted the young man safe and back home or, at least, at Lesa’s fort.

“He seems to be quite fond of you as well,” Cecilie said innocently.

“Well, I did save his sister,” Wolfram pointed out.

“True,” she agreed. “And what about his brother, Athara? Do you get along?”

“Since we don’t have many things in common, we try to stay away from each other so as not to bore each other to death.”

Gunter sighed softly. He would have preferred Wolfram to show interest in the youngest member of von Ashira family than the oldest. According to the rumors, Athara von Ashira was much easier to deal with. Wolfram, though, was obviously not the least bit interested in him.

“Can you use your fire element without restrictions?” Cecilie asked.

“More or less. I still get a bit dizzy afterwards, but it’s improving every day. Eldara and I have made plans for next week to go out of town and work out a bit with our elements in the fields. I will see how it goes then.”

“Are you sure it’s a good idea?” Cecilie asked while Gunter looked very disquieted but just stayed silent.

“A good idea for what?”

Cecilie and Gunter started at the voice behind them. They turned around to see the duke offer them a charming smile as he closed the door to his study.

“I’m sorry for cutting in so abruptly. It seems I have startled you. I just wanted to invite you to join me and my other guests for lunch.”

“I just mentioned the element training we intend to have next week,” Wolfram explained. “I think they are short of thinking that you will try to kill me.”

For a moment, Cecilie and Gunter looked scandalized. Eldara averted his eyes from them to look at Wolfram. “To kill you? No, really, I wouldn’t.” He grinned. “It would be out of character for me to kill you before I make some tangible use of you.”

Wolfram grinned in answer. “Yes, dead, I am worthless.”

Eldara turned to Cecilie and Gunter. “You’ll have to forgive me for being such a bad host but I’m afraid that, at the rate the guests are flowing in, I can’t show you around or keep you company. I hope Wolfram has been of utmost help.”

“Oh, you don’t need to worry about it, dear,” Cecilie said. “He’s already shown us around.”

“Every nook and cranny,” Wolfram confirmed. “Except your precious vault.”

Eldara was not certain how to react to this. He found himself smiling while, at the same time, felt somewhat annoyed. He did know that Cecilie and von Christ must know of its existence from the letters but he still wished Wolfram wouldn’t talk about it. 

“You won’t let it go, will you?” he said.

“Never,” Wolfram said, smiling in return, but the smile never reaching his eyes. He said nothing else, though, and the four of them continued down the corridor to the dining room. 

It was just as Fajdal had said, Gunter decided. It was probably unconscious but Wolfram sought the older man’s attention. He wondered if Wolfram was aware that what he was doing was very close to flirting. The duke, of course, must be aware of that.

“I couldn’t help noticing the curious device in Sir’s hands,” Eldara told Gunter as the walked. “May I take a look at it?” he asked, extending his hand.

“But of course, Your Grace,” Gunter said, holding out the ballpoint pen. He cursed himself mentally; he should have hidden it better. Eldara held the pen gingerly, and, from the way his eyes were taking in every detail, it was obvious that tomorrow, or even this very day, the instructions would be given to craft a copy.

“It’s not usual ink inside, is it? What do you use to make it thicker?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know, Your Grace,” Gunter said. “It’s His Majesty’s invention, so it would be best to ask him directly.” He hoped Wolfram would not correct him. He also hoped, hoped very much, that, in his blind fascination with the duke, Wolfram would not carelessly blurt out things about the Earth. That would be disastrous.

“Ah, he must have gotten the idea on one of his sporadic journeys he sometimes disappears on,” Eldara said, giving the lavender-haired man an amused look. He returned the pen. “Thank you, Sir.”

When they reached the dining room, most of the guests were already there, and Eldara, after showing Cecilie and Gunter to their seats, turned his attention to them. He greeted everyone one more time and then invited the guests to start eating and enjoying themselves.

White and red wine was poured into glasses. Wolfram stood up to offer a toast in gratitude to the generous host and the present guests. Cheers and greeting were exchanged one more time and the glasses were emptied. Wolfram half-expected his wine to be some kind of juice or just a colored drink, but it was real wine. Waiting for the servants to fill his and other people’s plates, the blond enjoyed his rare drink. Further into the lunch, his glass was refilled but this time it actually was stewed fruit. It was diluted enough to make it as though it was wine, but it still tasted well. Wolfram took note that Eldara’s glass was being filled from the same bottle as his. Wolfram felt both annoyed and grateful for the solidarity.

Gunter was like fish in water. He continuously discussed something with neighbors to his left and his right. Yesterday, Eldara had shown them the list of guests and, after a few questions, Gunter had expressed a wish to be seated next to certain people, if possible. He was all business now. Eldara had also subtly mentioned a few names Wolfram might be interested in, but the blond left it all to his mother. He had obviously made a miscalculation since the only thing she currently seemed to be interested in was hooking up with someone. Her male neighbor had forgotten his wife completely and had eyes only for the former Demon Queen. Wolfram felt a jealousy storm was coming.

Smoked meats, fish, nuts, and dried fruits typical of Shin Makoku cuisine, all of which had been brought by Gunter and Cecilie, were on the table as well. The guests were curious to taste the unusual food, and, across the table Wolfram could see Neryan von Sedera, the Duke of Arklend and the rumored lover of Eldara, sharing one of the fruits with his wife. The two of them looked like real lovebirds. Wolfram wondered whose bed von Sedera was going to warm tonight. Not that he particularly cared. It was probably curiosity about how low a man could stoop.

Halea and Fredrick sat next to each other; it roused a bout of reasonable gossip of their current relationship. Wolfram’s ears already caught a few inquiries concerning that. He knew he was a target for speculations as well, and, it was very likely that there were quite a few who wanted to get to know him better. It wasn’t easy, though – he sat between Eldara and his interpreter. Yet, there had been a few attempts to communicate with him, all of which Wolfram answered with polite smiles and nods but never went deeper by warmly but insistently suggesting they tried his home cuisine.

Lunch lasted an hour and a half. Dinner went in almost the exact manner, lasting three hours. Wolfram went to sleep exhausted to the point he forgot to again wonder whose bed von Sedera intended to share.

\---

The day of the celebration happened to be stormy. It was the first winter storm and some gests weren’t prepared for it. Once they arrived, they stumbled into the castle with their teeth chattering and went in search of a fireplace. It took time for them to warm up and join the rest of the guests in their comfortable lounging.

Orinth the Fifth’s and his suite’s arrival caused an excited uproar. He looked a little different than Wolfram had imagined – a little younger and more cheerful. He had come with his wife, Queen Teromia, and his two sons, who, in turn, had brought their own wives and children. From then on, Eldara disappeared in the royal hubbub.

It was past midday and Wolfram was doing his share in entertaining guests. It was still about an hour until the door to the great hall would be opened. He was drinking the yellowish stewed fruit drink hoping for someone to rescue him. A young girl, who looked about eighteen, was trying to attract his attention. They found a common topic about horses and had been talking for about fifteen minutes. Wolfram found her pretty and smart but she continued to subtly flirt, so he grew restless.

“Ah, here you are,” Eldara said in a voice so happy, it was as if he had found a best friend he had lost years ago. “Excuse me, Lady, Your Highness. May I have a moment of your time?”

Wolfram nodded. “Yes, of course, Your Grace.” He offered thousands of his deepest apologies to the girl and followed Eldara to the other end of the corridor.

“Have some decency and stop looking so relieved,” the duke said laughing softly. “By the way, I expect the same courtesy.”

“It’s hard to differentiate between when you’re being tortured and when you are indeed enjoying yourself,” Wolfram noted.

“I’ll just grab the nearest knife and hold it to my throat. That should help you.”

“That would also help the rest of the guests.”

“Indeed. Well, I have to leave you now,” Eldara said. “Try not to get caught again. By the way, where’s your interpreter?”

“I let him wander. I figured that this way, I’d have less chance in being talked to.”

“You’re being rude.”

“There’s still all the time in the world for conversations and flirting.”

“That’s so, but…” Eldara trailed off after spotting someone in the milling crowd. “Have you met the Baron of Mercia? The most loyal subject of mine,” he said, leading Wolfram forward. “He’s a few years older than you. His parents were met by an unfortunate accident several years ago and he’s the only son. He’s a very interesting young man, very open-minded about Demons at that. I think you’ll be able to find a few things in common.”

“Do I need to call for my interpreter?”

“No, he speaks fluently. You can hardly feel the accent.”

Introductions were made and, in no time, Wolfram found himself in the company of a handsome, twenty-something man called Reikia von Estram. After the awkward beginning, they quickly found a few common interests, just as the duke had promised. Both of them were keen on horses and swords. Out of curiosity, they exchanged their swords then proceeded to discuss blade variations from country to country. Wolfram didn’t even feel how one o’clock came.

With a rising tide of guests, he and his newly found friend were swept into the prepared hall. Eldara fished Wolfram out quickly and, for about an hour, the two of them stood at the end of the lavish hall accepting good wishes and gifts. 

For his extraordinary service to the kingdom, Orinth the Fifth gifted Eldara more land. The generous gift was met with hushed silence followed by applause. Wolfram received a pretty brooch with diamonds. Then the rest of the gifts followed. The duke received noticeably more luxurious gifts but that was to be expected: he was their landlord while Wolfram was only his prominent guest. By the end of the congratulations, Wolfram had twenty brooches, ten pairs of cufflinks, three beautifully ornamented money sacks, two pendants, and some other jewelry. His mother had gifted him a bottle of cologne made from the flowers she grew, while Gunter’s present was a pair of good sturdy riding boots, which, Wolfram regretfully deemed, were probably a size too small by now. Gwendal’s knitted vest was beautiful but hardly anyone discerned that the general had made it himself. 

The official part was finally over and everyone was invited to sit at the table. After a few more toasts and greetings, everyone dug in. Wolfram wondered what Yuuri’s gift was, since his mother told him it was best to be given in privacy. He and Eldara hadn’t exchanged theirs yet either. That was something he was curiously looking forward to.

When everyone’s plates started clearing up, Eldara stood up to announce his sister and von Sarda’s engagement. The couple stood up too, and a bout of greetings and well-wishes echoed in the hall again. Eldara offered a hearty toast and glasses started clinking.

Soon the musicians started playing and people rose from the table in groups either to dance or to converse. In no time Wolfram found himself to be sought out by his previous companion, Reikia von Estram. That gave Wolfram a perfect excuse to avoid people he didn’t want to talk to.

At first glance, due to his almost regal posture and the offhand smile, the baron had struck Wolfram as an arrogant snob, and he thought that Eldara must be crazy to think they could get along. The very first sentence from von Estram’s mouth, however, proved him to be wrong. He spoke with a certain mellowness and was overall a very pleasant man. They quickly started calling each other by only their first names.

Wolfram and the baron returned to the subjects they were most passionate about: horses and swords. At some point, von Estram expressed a wish to try a dish or two from Shin Makoku. He approved of the smoked meats and seasoning but Wolfram had to laugh at how the other man’s face distorted after trying a few dried fruits.

“Don’t force yourself,” Wolfram said, still laughing. “I still can’t get used to the food you eat here.”

“Indeed,” Reikia muttered, swallowing with difficulty. “That’s a peculiar taste.” His eyes flitted over the crowd until they found Eldara. The duke was talking to Orinth the Fifth. It looked as if he was having a good time. But then, Eldara couldn’t afford to look any different.

Wolfram followed his gaze. “It’s first time I’m seeing His Majesty. I admit I expected him to be more…hmm…” he trailed off.

“He’s come here to have fun,” Reikia explained. “You should see him when he’s all business.” He averted his eyes back to Wolfram. The blond looked stunning, he rarely met men of such exceptional beauty. Wolfram seemed to be aware of his looks, though. The attire he had chosen complimented his build and face: a dark blue jacket and trousers. The brooch with a dark green emerald on his white cravat perfectly accentuated the color of his eyes. Wolfram was far from boring, and Reikia found himself complimenting von Ashira’s taste.

“You will have to forgive me for the cufflinks,” Reikia said. “A few more birthdays and you will be able to swim in them.”

“Wha-? Oh. Don’t worry about it. That’s to be expected – it’s the most neutral gift when one doesn’t know the person. Besides, gold is always fashionable.”

“True,” Reikia agreed. He had been watching the blond’s glass for quite some time now and finally decided to ask: “I’m not certain I should ask, but what the hell are you drinking? It smells like peaches.”

Wolfram blushed fiercely. He felt uncomfortable and wasn’t certain he should talk about it at all. “It is peaches, I think,” he said. “I have a bit of a problem with wine.”

“Oh. It’s probably the same problem I used to have with liqueur.”

“Oh.”

“The most important thing about it is not to touch it even if you think that you can handle it.”

“Yes, I have noticed,” Wolfram said sulkily.

“How about a spar tomorrow?” Reikia suggested in hopes of dissipating the suddenly dismal mood. He found himself fidgeting under the sharp emerald stare. Wolfram was a full-blooded Demon, which gave the blond enough grounds to believe that their strength was uneven no matter how good he was at swordfight.

“Are you sure?”

“If you’re implying that you’ll have me on my ass within the first two seconds, I will prove you wrong,” Reikia said, grinning.

Wolfram laughed. “Very well. Tomorrow it is, then.”

“And tonight we could do something else,” Reikia said, taking Wolfram’s glass from his hand, his fingers sliding over the blond’s suggestively.

Wolfram stared at him. There had been subtle hints earlier but now he was convinced completely. He suddenly didn’t know what to do. Eldara set him up. It was no coincidence. The duke probably thought that he was doing him a favor. It would have been a favor if he were more experienced. It was not as if he was uninterested - he found the other man attractive but the situation made him reluctant and uncertain. It must have been apparent on his face since the baron quickly drew his hand back. 

“I’m sorry, I must have misinterpreted something.”

Wolfram shook his head offering him a weak smile. “No, not really. But…” Reikia was giving him a curious look, and Wolfram couldn’t help blushing. “Err… I’m not really used to this,” he muttered finally, the awkward flush on his cheeks not receding even a bit.

“No, you aren’t,” the baron agreed softly, not lowering his eyes from Wolfram. He wondered why this rare gem was still not claimed by anyone. He would have expected Eldara, of all people, to have sunk his claws into the adorable blond by this time. But then, again no, the duke wasn’t all that attracted to naïve innocence.

Von Estram couldn’t resist reaching out for the blond’s glass again. Wolfram’s eyes widened slightly when their fingers brushed against each other once again. Reikia ran his fingers up the blond’s arm then his hand was caught in an iron grip.

“Mind your hands,” Wolfram warned softly.

The baron couldn’t help but chuckle at the force behind the silent words. “Of course. I’m sorry.” So this was why the blond was untouched. Wolfram let go of his wrist and he removed his hand. “Should we cancel tomorrow’s spar?” he asked.

Wolfram gave him a sharp look. “There’s no need. Just keep your hands to yourself and you will be fine.”

The baron nodded with a good-natured smile. “Of course. Well, it was a pleasure to meet you, Wolfram. Find me, when you change your mind,” he said, meaning it.

And so, feeling like a failure, Wolfram was left alone. He knew he had probably overreacted but he didn’t like the familiarity with which the man he barely knew had suddenly started treating him. He didn’t think he would ever get used to it, and wasn’t certain he needed to.

He caught the sight of von Estram a few more times, one of those times while he had been talking to Eldara. During their conversation, Eldara’s eyes set on him a few times. They held no real expression, and Wolfram didn’t know what the duke thought of his misadventure with the baron. He wondered what exactly von Estram had told the duke.

Eldara found Wolfram some time later. “It’s a pity it didn’t work out with Reikia,” he said, offering Wolfram a glass of wine.

Wolfram glanced at the glass, decided that this was the duke’s way of apologizing for setting Reikia upon him, and refused. “Did he tell you that I’m a frigid bastard?” he asked bitterly.

“No, Wolfram, he said nothing of the sort. In fact, he likes you a lot.”

“Are you two fu-?” Wolfram blushed not finishing. “Are you two havi-?”

“No, Wolfram, we aren’t sleeping together,” Eldara denied. “I have known him since he was seventeen and fell for my brother. It’s just bad luck that Athara’s preferences are very clear.”

“Oh,” Wolfram muttered. “I didn’t know.”

“Well, of course, you didn’t.”

“You still regret it didn’t work out between them.”

“He would have been a welcome influence on Athara,” Eldara agreed. “Nothing can be done about it, though.” He sighed. “I’m sorry if I was too forward.”

“I don’t think you are sorry at all,” Wolfram said. “And you don’t need to be since I did like him. It’s just that he’s a bit too quick with his hands.”

“Wolfram,” the duke said reproachfully, “all he did was touch your fingers.”

“Well, maybe I don’t like my fingers touched.”

Eldara chuckled. “Is that it? Would you have preferred if he had touched you somewhere else?”

“Stop laughing, you pervert.”

Tbc

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N 7: It’s probably about time to share beautiful fanart made for Bloom by my friend White_Youkai** : http://chayron.livejournal.com/pics/catalog/525


	23. Part 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Kyou Kara Maou! – It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I’m not making any money from writing it.  
> Warnings: yaoi (male x male), violence, swearing, angst, drama. Wolfram-centric, out of character, original character.  
> Summary: With Yuuri’s upcoming birthday, Wolfram makes his decision. Where will it lead him and what is to become of them? Should eventually be Yuuri x Wolfram.  
> A/N 1: Yuuri – 18 years old. Wolfram – 21. Eldara – 32. Halea – 20. Athara – 18.  
> A/N 2: Greta doesn’t exist.  
> A/N 3: European/American/Japanese standards all at once depending on the plot requirements.  
> A/N 4: A tendency to ignore the anime/manga and supplement the story with my own imagined facts.   
> A/N 5: Season III is not taken into consideration, except for the fact that Wolfram’s uncle exists.  
> A/N 6: The umlaut in Gunter’s name is a bother.

**Bloom**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Tia Integra

Part 23

With curiosity written all over his face, Wolfram watched Gunter lower a trunk to the ground. The birthday party in the hall had finally started running out of steam, so they had come to his room to take a look at the Demon King’s gift. Cecilie probably knew what was inside the trunk since she showed no interest in it and kept herself busy with arranging the gifts Wolfram had received earlier. She kept oohing and aahing in awe.

Gunter opened the trunk and extracted a thin, long object wrapped in a cloth. Wolfram didn’t need the cloth taken off to know what it was. A sword. How surprising. Gunter removed the cloth and held it for Wolfram. The scabbard was decorated with intricate cuts, swirling and curling around two diamonds. There was one more diamond on the end of the hilt of the sword. Wolfram drew the blade. The ornament-free hilt felt comfortable in his hand as he swished the blade about tentatively. He liked the length of this sword better than that of his current one. Due to his growth spur, his arms had grown longer and recently he had felt that his sword was lacking.

“It’s a good blade,” Wolfram said after examining it. “I will treasure it. Express my utmost gratitude to His Majesty.”

Gunter hardly kept himself from wincing at the offhand manner with which Wolfram said it. It was a good thing the king wasn’t here for he would have been hurt. Shibuya was worried about Wolfram, asked about him frequently, read all the letters. He was bent on preserving their friendship. The king wasn’t very good at demonstrating his concern, though. With Wolfram insistently widening the gap between them, Yuuri was falling behind. Wolfram’s letters had been sarcastic at first but then suddenly turned laconic to the point that they left Yuuri frustrated and confused. If he wanted to know more than only about the weather and political news in Kardera, Yuuri had to ask Gwendal. 

It was clear that Wolfram was not going to come back to Blood Pledge Castle. Not now, not ever. He was going to leave for Lesa as soon as he returned and then, in a year or two, he was going to take over his rightful title as the von Bielefeld heir. Gunter knew all of that even without the blond opening his mouth. There was something that had changed about Wolfram. The blond was more resolute in his decisions and it seemed that he finally knew what he wanted from life. He appeared to be more distant, though. The failure of his and Yuuri’s relationship had been a crippling blow and it was going to take even more time for him to lick his wounds. For now, Wolfram didn’t want to have anything to do with Yuuri. It was very likely, though, that this was never going to change. It was a dangerous situation since regret often developed into bitterness and then hatred.

Wolfram watched Gunter and his mother leave for their rooms. It was about one o’clock in the morning and he planned on nothing but going to bed. He was tired and the sword had been the last straw. After turning the magnificent blade over in his hands a few more times, he dropped the sheathed sword onto the bed and started unbuttoning his jacket.

A soft knock on his door made Wolfram start. Rebuttoning his jacket, he went to the door. He wasn’t very surprised when, after opening it, he saw Eldara. With a reassuring glance towards the guards at his door, Wolfram stepped aside from the doorway to let the duke pass.

“Come in.”

“Thanks,” Eldara said as he walked into the room. “Oh. You’re alone already? I expected to see von Christ and Cecilie here.”

“No, you didn’t,” Wolfram said. “You probably waited for them to leave.”

The duke wondered why he bothered to open his mouth at all. Wolfram was getting better at reading him day after day. Then Eldara’s eyes fell on the sword on the blond’s bed. “Ah. And this is His Majesty Yuuri Shibuya’s gift, isn’t it? May I take a look?”

Wolfram shrugged. “Be my guest.”

“Wonderfully made,” the duke said in awe, after inspecting the blade in every angle possible. “Very tasteful, too. Makes me jealous. A gift worthy of a king.”

“Indeed,” Wolfram agreed dismissively. “Only that Shibuya understands zilch about swords. I bet it was Weller who had picked it.”

Slowly, Eldara slid the sword back into its scabbard. “It is only wise to consult the expert when one wants to gift something worthwhile.”

Wolfram snorted. “I don’t think Shibuya had the faintest idea what he was sending. Not the first time, mind you. He hasn’t changed at all.” He closed his eyes in frustration and shook his head. “Never mind that,” he said, opening his eyes, offering the duke an apologetic smile.

Eldara lowered the sword back onto the bed. It was a work of art, and it was remarkable how many conflicting emotions it had already managed to cause.

“It’s a good sword,” Eldara said. “It would be a pity not to use it.”

“Yes,” Wolfram agreed. “A good blade is a good blade and I have no intention of not using it. I think it will serve a few more purposes at that.”

The duke gave him a questioning look but the blond didn’t elaborate.

“I spent some time debating with myself about whether I should thank you or be angry with you for inviting my family,” Wolfram said. “I still hate the thought of them having traveled during such stormy weather on my account. And then there’s the journey home to consider…”

“And what did you decide? Will I be scolded or thanked?”

Wolfram chuckled. “I think I will wait till they are safely back home and then decide.”

Eldara nodded. “They will probably have to wait a few more days till the sea calms down. Well, I don’t think you will mind that – you’ll have an opportunity to spend more time with them.” He shook his head. “But I didn’t come here to discuss this. I still haven’t given you your present.”

“Just like I haven’t given you yours,” Wolfram said.

“Well, are you ready to see yours?” the duke asked, pointing at the curtained windows. “We’ll have to go outside for that.”

It was after one in the morning and Wolfram shot the curtain an uncertain look. He suddenly thought he knew what his gift was. He couldn’t help but laugh.

“What?” the duke asked, perplexed.

“No, nothing,” Wolfram said, walking over to the wardrobe to get his coat. “Go and get your coat. I’ll wait for you downstairs.”

It was easier said than done, though, since, when he was downstairs, two elderly ladies nearly kidnapped Wolfram. He only managed to get rid of them after he said that he felt sick and needed a gulp of fresh air. The duke arrived just in time to see the women change their target and starting to stalk another unsuspecting victim.

“It’s always the same with these two,” he said, putting on his gloves. “Surprisingly, they always find someone to badger.”

“Well, they probably look good after a few shots of whiskey,” Wolfram said. “So where are we going?”

Eldara glanced at Fajdal at Wolfram’s side. It was probably pointless asking for the bodyguard to leave. It would just cause suspicion and even more guards would join them. Wolfram probably had similar thoughts while he was looking at Karela behind his back. The duke decided to just leave it be.

The four of them stepped into the cold wintry night with the guards holding lanterns to light the way. They climbed down the stairs and turned right, then they passed the garden and turned right again; now Wolfram had no doubts about where they were going.

They reached the stable a few more minutes later. Wolfram jumped at loud barks that suddenly shook the cold air. Two gigantic dogs immediately appeared and he instinctively raised his hand, his fire element soaring to life.

“No!” Eldara hissed, grabbing him by his hand.

Swords jingled and in a blink of an eye Fajdal and Karela stood with blades pointing at each other. The dogs were happily jumping around Eldara, the echo of their excited barks adding to the eerie sight.

“Stand down!” the duke spat. “Sheathe your sword this instance, Karela, or gods help you!”

“Yes, Your Grace,” the captain muttered reluctantly.

“Fajdal, go back to the castle,” Wolfram said, pulling his hand out of Eldara’s grasp. “I don’t think I’m in any danger in the stable.”

“No can do, Sir,” Fajdal said, sheathing his sword.

Wolfram turned to him. “Are you trying to make me angry? Because you’ve been doing great so far,” he said, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “I said to wait for me in the castle. Which part of that you don’t understand?”

“Karela, go back with him,” the duke said, taking the lantern from him.

After offering deep bows, the two bodyguards walked away into the night. Wolfram watched the swaying circle of light that was the receding lantern. He reached out to stroke one of the beasts’ head and it let out a happy yip. 

“Sorry I nearly fried them.”

“I should have warned you about them.”

“I haven’t seen them before.”

“We release them only at night. It’s best not to wander near the stables alone.”

Eldara held out the lantern and the two of them walked forward until they reached the stable doors. After hearing the duke’s voice, the stable boy rushed out to meet them.

“Your Grace, Lord.”

“We have come to see the horse.”

The stable boy quickly looked from the duke to Wolfram, then back again. “Which one, Your Grace?”

The duke looked perplexed. “What do you mean ‘which one’? The one I…” Eldara turned to Wolfram, who started laughing softly. “What are you laughing ab-? Oh. _Seriously_?”

Wolfram nodded. “Seriously.” He laughed again. “The good thing is that if we don’t like each other’s gift, we can always switch them back.”

Eldara burst out laughing. “Indeed,” he agreed. Motioning further into the stable, he said, “Well, let’s proceed, then.”

“Let’s see your surprise first,” Wolfram said, following the stable boy inside. “But shouldn’t we have come in the morning? We’ll hardly be able to see anything, and they will be sleepy.”

Eldara closed the door behind them, shutting the yowling dogs outside. “That’s true,” he said, “but I was so eager to see your reaction that I could not contain myself anymore. And tomorrow, with all the guests milling around, there won’t be any time.”

Wolfram chuckled. “That must be a lovely beast.”

“She is!”

It was much warmer in the stables, the smells of hay, horses, and fresh manure filled their nostrils. The stables were packed full with Eldara’s own and the guests’ horses. Beasts woke at their voices and footsteps, and whinnied softly. They followed the stable boy through the rows of stalls till they finally stopped in the middle of the stable, next to a particular stall. Eldara and the stable boy raised their lanterns to enable Wolfram to see inside. The duke clucked his tongue to call the horse forward.

A white muzzle appeared from behind the bars and Eldara took his gloves off to let the mare sniff at his hands. The curious animal seemed to recognize him and let the duke stroke her neck.

“I bought her from the horse trader in Big Cimaron a few weeks ago. A wonderful animal, very gentle and clever. She is still stressed from the long journey and the change of the environment, though. It seems as though she also misses her previous owner.”

“It’s one of the Cimerian, isn’t it?” Wolfram said, awed. He took his right glove off and slowly stretched his hand forward to let the horse get familiar with his scent. The mare puffed at his hand and turned her head aside. “I haven’t seen many of them. Must have cost a fortune.”

“It’s a pity you can’t clearly see the color. It’s almost silver,” Eldara said. “Her back is so soft that one can almost ride without a saddle.” 

Wolfram tried to stoke the horse’s neck but she avoided his fingers by moving her head to Eldara’s side. She bumped his shoulder accidentally and he chuckled, patting her forehead. It was going to take a few days for the mare to get used to her new owner, but she would be perfect for Wolfram’s rides here. He was already looking forward to spending his time with her.

“What’s her name?”

“Rendar.”

Wolfram saw the mare’s ears perk up at the sound of her name. “What a peculiar name,” he said.

Eldara nodded in agreement. “You’ll get used to it. She’s been trained to respond to it, so giving a new one would just cause unnecessary trouble.”

Wolfram shook his head. “No, I won’t change it; it’s not bad, just unusual.” 

Eldara looked so proud that Wolfram couldn’t help chuckling. “Thank you, I really like her. I will make sure to take good care of her.”

“I’m glad you like her,” the duke said, his face glowing with satisfaction. “She’s such a good girl.”

Wolfram nodded. “I’m sure she is. I can see why you were so excited.” He put his gloves into his pockets, and motioned for the stable boy to move forward. “It will be hard to beat that. I wanted you to see yours in the daylight but since it has come to this…

“I know you said you didn’t have enough free time for your horse, but you promised to race me. Yours is a good traveling horse: an obedient and tough animal. But she isn’t very fast, so I thought to surprise you with a real racehorse.”

They stopped nearly at the other end of the stable. A dark chestnut head shot out from behind the bars to give people a curious look. Eldara raised the lantern to see the beast better. The horse whinnied at the light but didn’t step away. It was a dark chestnut stallion, his sleek coat and powerful body glowing in the lantern light.

“It’s a challenge if I ever saw one,” Eldara said, admiring the animal. It was a breed called Demonic Light, the most sought out racing breed in Shin Makoku and its surrounding countries. Fast, curious, and fearless. It was, however, not easy to bend them to one’s will, especially when it came to stallions. 

Wolfram chuckled. “Indeed. But I’m sure he’ll soon be like clay in your hands.” He watched the duke evaluate his gift. “I had to choose between him and a black one. I found this color more attractive.”

“Yes,” Eldara agreed thoughtfully. “Besides, black is the color of horses your former fiancé prefers.”

“Yes,” Wolfram said simply. “He’s called Hadorian.” The horse whinnied at his name and Wolfram reached out to pat his neck. The stallion stood still, enjoying the attention, then, tentatively, watching for Wolfram’s reaction, tried to nip at his fingers and the blond flicked over his nose lightly. Hadorian stepped back but in a second his head was over the bars again. With his muzzle, he nudged at the blond’s shoulder demanding to be stroked again.

“He’s pretty playful,” Eldara noted. He reached his hand out and had to retract it as, at once, Hadorian tried to bite him.

“He’s barely two years old. Very young, but he has received all the necessary training. He’s been testing me these past three days. At first he was trying to bite me all the time but now we got to the point where he nearly abandoned the thought. Just show him that you won’t tolerate any nipping and he’ll stop. Surprisingly, he’s good with other horses – doesn’t try to bite them or anything.”

Eldara nodded. He watched Wolfram stroking the stallion’s neck and wished he could chase away all the guests out of his castle and just spend a day with Wolfram and the horses. “Well, I don’t want to switch our gifts,” he said. “Hadorian is an asset to any stable.” He gave the second lantern for the stable boy to hold.

“Indeed,” Wolfram said and laughed. “Just like Rendar.” Again, he watched Eldara swell with satisfaction. This was how a gift was supposed to be chosen and given. Not like a sword that had been dumped on him just because Conrart was told to get something for him.

He was probably being petty, Wolfram realized but, while moving away to allow Eldara to try and establish some sort of contact with his stallion, he also knew that there could hardly be anything petty about it when it hurt so much.

“Little bastard,” Eldara grunted when Hadorian tried to bite him for the third time.

Wolfram chuckled. “It will take a few days. Let him get used to you.”

“Well, of course, but I’m so eager!”

Wolfram laughed softly. It was rare to see the duke enjoy himself so unreservedly, just like a child. He watched the older man’s back while he stared at the stallion adoringly. It was pleasant to watch a man sharing his passion for horses. When he thought about it, he and Eldara had more than a few things in common.

“Does your offer still stand?”

The duke turned to Wolfram. It took him several seconds to understand what Wolfram was referring to. It was only the blond’s unusually soft voice and uncertain stance that helped him. He nodded slowly. “Yes, it still stands.”

“Then I would like to accept it.”

At first, Eldara didn’t react at all. He just stared at Wolfram motionlessly. To put it mildly, he was surprised at how straightforward the blond was being. Nothing had changed after that night in his bedroom and he had figured that the blond had forgotten all about it. He didn’t think that Wolfram had been considering the offer, much less, that at some point, he had decided to accept it. Then he realized that maybe he shouldn’t be so surprised – the spar with Wolfram a few days ago and his searching and somewhat troubled gaze afterwards should have been enough of an indication.

The duke turned to the stable boy and took one lantern from him. “Leave us,” he ordered.

Wolfram hadn’t been certain if Eldara had been serious back then in his bedroom. Not once had he wondered whether the duke had only said that to get out of the situation. It would have been embarrassingly unpleasant if that had ultimately been the case. Eldara’s gaze was hot on him and, not being able to keep the eye contact, the blond concentrated on the door bolt next to the duke’s arm.

The blond wasn’t looking at him, he was probably blushing but Eldara couldn’t see that in the poor light. He stepped closer to Wolfram, and the younger man’s eyes focused on him again. 

“So I’ve made a miscalculation introducing you to Reikia, haven’t I?” the duke said.

“Yes,” Wolfram said softly.

“Well, in my defense, I can say that it’s not easy to figure you out.”

A flash of amusement appeared on Wolfram’s face. And he was hearing that from Eldara, the master of manipulation games? “I think you are being falsely modest now…” he drawled, smiling.

“A little bit,” Eldara agreed. “You’ve been sending too many mixed signals, though. Besides, I thought you could have done better with a younger lover.”

“That… Let _me_ decide on that.”

“Very well,” Eldara said, chuckling. “Don’t think that I’m complaining. Far from that,” he said.

He and Wolfram now stood so close to each other that there were only several centimeters between them. Wolfram’s eyes widened lightly when Eldara reached out towards him. His shoulders tensed when the other man’s fingers slipped under the high collar of his coat to brush over his nape. Eldara drew him closer and their lips met in a soft, slow kiss.

Wolfram was just as clumsy as the duke remembered. Most of it now was probably due to the tension that he could feel in the younger man’s shoulders. Wolfram was still alert, not certain what to do with his hands, his body rigid.

Eldara drew back from Wolfram to lower the lantern to the ground. He was aware of the blond’s eyes following his every movement. He was a little puzzled by Wolfram’s edginess but the younger male was always on his guard with everyone and it was probably going to take some time for him to get into the mood. That was fine with him – he liked long foreplays.

Straightening, the duke met the blond’s eyes. Wolfram was sheepishly wiping saliva off his lips. He was blushing furiously. There was something incredibly arousing about that.

“Don’t bother,” Eldara said, drawing Wolfram close by the lapels of his coat.

Further into the kiss he finally felt the blond relax. Wolfram’s lips were pliant under his, the blond’s arms soon wound around his waist and shoulders. His strong fingers curled into the coat greedily. The blond smelled of sweat and his usual cologne, the blend of which was most exciting.

At some point, Wolfram felt his back press against one of the stalls behind him. He grunted in surprise when Eldara’s hand slid under his coat to grab at his backside. The grip was firm, possessive and, with a soft moan, Wolfram turned his head aside, breaking the kiss. Both of them were slightly breathless. Despite a few unbuttoned buttons in his coat and relatively cool air in the stable, Wolfram was sweating. His body felt feverish, the skin underneath Eldara’s hand was burning and he badly wanted to shed the stifling coat. He wanted the other man badly and he could tell that Eldara shared his craving.

“Should we continue this elsewhere?” he asked the duke, ruffling through the long dark violet hair. He had liked the feeling of the silky strands on his fingers and played with it until the hair band had given up and slid away.

“Yes, we should,” Eldara agreed, still somewhat breathless. “But I’m afraid that if I take you to my chambers, your people will think that I kidnapped and raped you.”

Wolfram laughed. “And if we go to my room, they will probably think that you broke the door down and attacked me in my sleep.”

“Well, since I end up being the evil bastard in any case, I’ll let you choose the option you like best,” Eldara said, chuckling.

Subtly, the duke was letting him choose his own comfort zone and Wolfram was grateful for that. “I think I’d prefer my room,” he said, moving his hands away from Eldara’s back. “I think I lost your hair band,” he admitted, twirling loose strands of violet hair around his index finger. He didn’t quite want to let go of the silky mass yet.

Eldara winked at him. “You’ll have to compensate for it.” He looked around him in the half-light and saw the strip lying on the stable floor. 

Regretfully, Wolfram let the strands slip out of his fingers when the duke bent down to pick up the band. It was dirty and Wolfram doubted Eldara would wear it again. Wolfram picked up the lantern and hoisted it higher, to his shoulders. His head above the bars, Hadorian was curiously staring at them.

“Shall we go?” Eldara asked, shaking the straw off his band.

Wolfram nodded, turning to the exit. Eldara’s hair was a mess and it was quite obvious what the two of them had been up to. While seeing them off, the stable boy bowed continuously as if he were guilty of something and offered his lantern to the duke. Eldara refused it and the two of them walked into the cold night with Wolfram lighting their way.

“I think he knows,” Wolfram said.

“Well, of course. Does it bother you?”

The blond thought for a moment then shook his head. “No, not really, but I’m not certain about my mother’s or Gunter’s reactions. I think I’ll have an earful.”

Eldara laughed softly. “That’s true. Von Christ has been giving me an evil eye ever since he set foot in Kardera.”

While they were walking, the duke had gathered his loose hair in his palm and pushed it inside his coat then buttoned it up again. Barks echoed on his left and Wolfram started again. In a moment, the two dogs appeared. The beasts followed them all the way to the castle and up the stairs then ran off into the night again.

The walk back to the castle made Wolfram realize that he was tired. It was two o’clock in the morning and he had spent a tedious day with over a hundred guests. He was, however, more excited than tired. He was having a hard time containing his imagination. As he and Eldara walked side by side, he had been wondering whether they should take a bath first or it was fine as it was. He was nearly completely ignorant when it came to such matters.

Fajdal appeared as soon as Wolfram set his foot inside. Karela was not far behind.

“Why don’t you go to sleep?” Eldara told his captain. “I’m certain you have more important things to do than this.”

Karela took one careful look at the duke and nodded. “Very well, Your Grace. See you in the morning. Have a good night.” He turned to Wolfram. “With your permission, Sir.”

Most of the time, Wolfram had some difficulties understanding what the duke’s captain said in his attempts to communicate and, as usual, didn’t understand him at all when he spoke his native language. Wolfram, however, had mastered the basics of greetings and goodbyes. Karela’s eyes spoke volumes and Wolfram was certain that the captain had doubtlessly included him in his wishes for the duke.

Fajdal lingered around then, while Wolfram and Eldara were taking the stairwell, disappeared as well. If the guard at the blond’s door was surprised to see both of them enter his room at such a late hour, he didn’t show. Wolfram summoned his fire element and the candles flared to life, lighting the room.

“I’d offer you a drink,” Wolfram said, taking off his coat, “but I’m afraid a certain someone has cut me off from all the possible alcohol sources. I can offer only water.”

“Are you still bitter about it?” Eldara asked, draping his coat over one of the chairs at the table.

“No,” Wolfram said. “You had to do what you had to do.” He reached his hand for Eldara’s coat. “Give me that, I’ll hang it together with mine in the closet.”

“I’m glad you think so; you can be pretty unreasonable at times. I wasn’t certain of your reaction.”

Wolfram closed the closet door. “I think you were. You thought I’d flip out.” He walked over to the table where he took the carafe with water.

Watching him pouring two glasses, Eldara laughed. “Well, yes, I was certain no one would be able to talk to you for a few weeks.”

“I can be pretty reasonable, after all. But we haven’t come here to talk about that, have we?”

Eldara’s eyebrows rose. “I hope not!” he said, taking the glass Wolfram held out for him and clinking it against the blond’s.

Tbc


	24. Part 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Kyou Kara Maou! – It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I’m not making any money from writing it.  
> Warnings: yaoi (male x male), violence, swearing, angst, drama. Wolfram-centric, out of character, original character.  
> Summary: With Yuuri’s upcoming birthday, Wolfram makes his decision. Where will it lead him and what is to become of them? Should eventually be Yuuri x Wolfram.  
> A/N 1: Yuuri – 18 years old. Wolfram – 21. Eldara – 32. Halea – 20. Athara – 18.  
> A/N 2: Greta doesn’t exist.  
> A/N 3: European/American/Japanese standards all at once depending on the plot requirements.  
> A/N 4: A tendency to ignore the anime/manga and supplement the story with my own imagined facts.   
> A/N 5: Season III is not taken into consideration, except for the fact that Wolfram’s uncle exists.  
> A/N 6: The umlaut in Gunter’s name is a bother.

**Bloom**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by chriscut

Part 24

Wolfram lowered his glass to the table. It was only water, but he felt as if he were pleasantly buzzed. It had to be both from the tiredness and excitement. Across the table, Eldara was finishing his water, and Wolfram was watching him with unconcealed interest. He was a little bit nervous with the bed looming only a couple of meters away from them. He was somewhat uncomfortable about his inexperience. He wasn’t certain what exactly he expected from this night but hoped that Eldara would make sure he had a good time.

Wolfram’s eyes followed the duke’s glass until it was emptied and pushed aside. Eldara stood up, and Wolfram followed his suite. He circled the table and faced the duke. The look in the blue eyes was eager and inviting. Wolfram’s excitement grew.

“Come here,” Eldara said, reaching out for Wolfram’s waist. He drew the younger man to his body and leaned in to capture his lips. Wolfram’s mouth opened for him obediently, his arms coming around him, his fingers sliding into his hair again. It seemed that Wolfram was positively fascinated with his long hair.

Wolfram was noticeably getting better at kissing, Eldara decided. It was only the third or fourth time that they were kissing, and the obvious improvement made the duke wonder about the blond’s previous lovers. He slid his hand in between them and, blindly, started unbuttoning Wolfram’s jacket.

At some point, Wolfram felt the back of his thighs prop against the table. His jacket was unbuttoned, and, in a moment, his shirt was spread apart as well. Eldara’s hand slipped under the loose fabric to caress his stomach. Wolfram moaned softly at the feeling of the other man’s warm hands sliding over his bare skin. The hand caressed his stomach then moved upwards to his chest. It touched him there, circling and smoothing then rubbed over his left nipple.

Touching the blond’s nipples didn’t earn him much of a reaction, and, since Wolfram was apparently less sensitive there, Eldara changed the tactics. He pushed Wolfram’s jacket and shirt apart to give himself more access to the blond’s neck and collarbones. He sucked lightly on the pale column of the blond’s throat, which earned a few shuddery gasps and a silent groan. By the morning, he expected to catalogue the majority of Wolfram’s preferences.

Tentatively, Wolfram placed his hands on Eldara’s jacket and searched for the buttons. His fingers trembled lightly while he was working to get them undone. His hands slid to the duke’s shoulders to push the jacket off him. Eldara lowered his arms, and, with the blond’s help, the jacket flopped carelessly to the floor.

Eldara’s hands took hold of the blond’s head and issued another kiss. He could feel fine tremors coursing though the younger man’s body. Wolfram was aroused, the proof of which he could easily tell from the tent in his trousers. Wanting to feel more of him, Eldara wedged himself between Wolfram’s thighs, successfully trapping the other man between himself and the table. Their bodies came flush, and he swallowed the blond’s strangled gasp at the sudden friction. There was something innocent about Wolfram’s reactions, and Eldara couldn’t help teasing him.

Wolfram’s senses were overloaded with the feeling of the other man against him. Something hard was pressing against his thigh, and he was certain that it was not a sword. Then Eldara’s teeth grazed at the front of his throat, and Wolfram felt his knees go weak. He swallowed loudly and closed his eyes. He was almost sitting on the table now. If this was going to continue, he was going to come without Eldara touching him, really touching him. That would be embarrassing. He had to distract the other man.

Eldara’s white shirt posed quite a difficulty with its tiny buttons. Impatient, Wolfram tugged at them a few times none too gently. The duke covered his hands with his.

“Eager, aren’t you?” he chuckled. “Let me help you.”

The duke unbuttoned the shirt with practiced ease and then disrobed it. He let it fall onto the table next to them. With a roll of his hips against the blond’s, he reached for the younger man’s upper clothing.

With his shirt and jacket already pooling behind him, Wolfram could only stare at Eldara’s bare chest while his belt was being unbuckled. Smooth and hairless just like his own. Wolfram had seen quite a few hairy chests in his lifetime, Yozak’s for instance, when he didn’t shave for a week or two. It was like a ginger carpet. Or Tyari, the sergeant at Lesa with startlingly bright blue hair.

Wondering what had brought this recollection on, Wolfram closed his eyes and placed his palms on Eldara’s chest. He liked how it felt and leaned in to press his mouth to the smooth warm skin. A soft pleasant sound left Eldara’s mouth, and Wolfram took it as a cue that he was doing something right. He continued teasing the other man with his lips and then flicked his tongue over the left nipple. He was rewarded with Eldara’s fingers sliding into his hair, massaging his scalp. Wolfram bit down gently. A soft, shuddery hiss left Eldara’s mouth, and Wolfram could hardly believe that it was him who had caused it. He soothed the nipple with his tongue and wanted to transfer his attention to the right one, but Eldara tugged at his hair to lift his head. Their mouths met in a frenzied kiss.

Wolfram wasn’t certain how it all happened after that. At some point his trousers did get unbuttoned and opened, just like Eldara’s. The motion slowed down a bit when the blond realized that the two of them were already in his bed only in their underwear. Soon even that bit of clothing was gone. Eldara’s hands were all over him, and his skin felt as if on fire. He really felt like he was about to come any time.

The blond was making soft, delicious sounds almost every time he was touched, and it was driving Eldara wild. He was painfully hard, and Wolfram soon spotted the problem, wrapping his fingers around him. The touch was tentative, exploring at first, and then, encouraged by the positive reaction, grew bolder and bolder. Eldara was intent on giving as much as he was getting, but Wolfram kept shifting away. It took him a few more moments to realize that the blond kept brushing his hand away every time he touched him. He either wanted to prolong this or it was unconscious.

“Could it be that you haven’t done this before?” Eldara asked breathlessly, confusion mixing with lust. Reikia had expressed his suspicions about the blond being a virgin, but really…?

Wolfram went rigid, his face going beet red. His first instinct was to lie, but then he nodded quickly. It was pointless to lie, since it was probably quite obvious anyway. 

“It doesn’t matter, really,” Eldara said at once aware that the younger male became uncomfortable. He wished he hadn’t asked at all. “It’s really pleasing, in fact,” he said, reaching out for Wolfram’s head to give him a reassuring kiss. The blond was still blushing fiercely, and the kiss he returned was needy but clumsier than all the others they had shared. It was clear now, the reason for his inexperience. Still, there was a lot he didn’t understand, but this had to wait. There were more pressing matters than Wolfram and his former fiancé’s strange relationship.

“So I suppose I can forget about this?” Eldara muttered, sliding his hand over the blond’s backside. 

“Nhn… We can try.”

Eldara chuckled; Wolfram didn’t step back even a little. “Not yet. It’s a bit too early for that kind of experience.” He wished he had known – he would have handled von Bielefeld differently. It was not too late, though.

His palm stroked Wolfram’s chest and stomach in circles, then slid downwards. When Eldara’s hand reached the hardened member, the blond tensed involuntary. This time Wolfram didn’t try to push him away. Eldara’s palm rested on him, then, meeting no resistance, cupped him gently. Feeling it hardening in his palm even further, Eldara gave it a few strokes, alternating them with soft squeezes. 

Wolfram could feel his face burning, but, to his relief, it was dark in the room, and it was probably not so noticeable. It was very visible, in fact. However, Eldara didn’t care much as he was much more interested in Wolfram’s more private parts he now was touching.

Eldara’s fingers were wrapped around him, stroking. Wolfram felt he was being pushed sideways, onto his back. He complied, allowing Eldara to climb on top of him. Wolfram’s eyelids fluttered when the other man’s weight pressed him deeper into the mattress. Eldara’s breath was hot against his neck. His body was pressed against Wolfram’s tightly, allowing him to feel the other male’s hard length. His mind was numbed by the sensation, the knowledge that it was him the duke lusted after.

It was probably that thought that shattered Wolfram’s resistance completely. He raised his hands to press them against the duke’s shoulders. Eldara was alarmed thinking Wolfram wanted to push him away, but his doubts dissipated when the other man’s right arm slid down to wrap around his waist, the blond leaning in for a kiss. He answered it. Gave Wolfram just like he knew Wolfram wanted it – gently but firmly.

Wolfram broke the kiss about a minute later. He sighed contently, dropping his head back onto the pillow. The other man’s length was straining against his stomach. Wolfram rubbed against it tentatively. He heard Eldara exhale softly, then the other male pressed against him even tighter.

Wolfram gripped at Eldara’s shoulders when the other male took hold of both of them and started stroking them simultaneously. Eldara didn’t even try to prolong it – it wasn’t about that tonight. It was about reassurance and relief.

A loud sound startled the blond. It took him some time to realize that it was his own moan that had echoed in the candlelit room. If at first he could feel Eldara hard and throbbing against him, soon all he could sense was his own pulsing length and the hand working him.

Most of Eldara’s weight was supported by his left hand, but soon he realized that Wolfram liked to feel more of his weight on him. He wished he could do that, but then it would make it impossible to stroke them. It was obvious that the blond wouldn’t dislike a rougher foreplay either. For now it was best to play it safe. Experimentation could wait until Wolfram was more comfortable with this.

The soft grunts and hot puffs against his ear indicated that the blond was about to come. Eldara could feel him clawing against his back desperately. He rubbed harder, flicking his thumb over the leaking heads and sucked at the blond’s throat. That was enough to make him come. Wolfram stopped breathing, his body rising slightly off the bed.

Panting, Wolfram sagged back into the bedding. For a few moments, he stayed just like that, doing nothing just breathing and enjoying the warmth. It had been good, but now uneasiness was creeping into him. He could hear and feel Eldara’s quick breathing against his neck. The other male hadn’t come yet. Wolfram was about to ask what he should do, but then he realized that he knew perfectly well what he should do. He reached out between them where his member was softening and Eldara’s was about to burst. It was sticky everywhere – his stomach, his chest. It was probably all over his thighs, too.

The duke grunted softly when Wolfram’s fingers wrapped around him. The touch was tentative at first but then became bold, pushing Eldara’s hand aside.

Eldara came quickly, and Wolfram suddenly found himself regretting he couldn’t clearly see the duke’s face. Maybe next time. He let go of the softening member. The duke was still for a while, regaining his senses then rolled off Wolfram. After staying in bed for a few moments, he got up and wandered around the poorly lit room. Sleepily, Wolfram thought about summoning his element to light the way to wherever he was going, but Eldara returned to the bed before the blond could do that. Wolfram gasped at something cold and wet touching his stomach. He pushed Eldara’s hand aside.

“It’s just water. I’ll wipe you off. Believe me, you won’t like the feeling in the morning.”

Wolfram didn’t protest anymore. The duke wiped them clean, tossed the soiled handkerchief aside, and lay down again. Wolfram fell asleep about the same time the duke was about to ask him to put out the candles. With a sigh, Eldara left the bed again.

They woke up five hours later to the sound of someone pounding on the door. 

“Your Highness! Your Highness!”

“What is it?” Wolfram croaked, rubbing at his eyes. He saw that Eldara had already sat up and was looking around for his clothing. A few reddish scratches were marking his back, and the blond blushed lightly. 

“There’s a duel in the yard!”

“I think he’s actually come for you,” Wolfram muttered at the duke’s back. “So tactful.”

“Ask him what the duel is about,” Eldara said, climbing out of the bed. He bent to retrieve his underwear from the floor. 

Tearing his eyes away from the pleasant sight, Wolfram repeated the question to the guard.

“They are fighting over a woman! One of them is half-Demon! There is…”

“Mother.”

The duke turned to Wolfram, who had suddenly jumped out of his bed as if he was chased by a hundred dragons. He was scurrying around the room, picking up pieces of clothing.

“Will be there in a moment!” the blond shouted.

“Are you sure it’s her?” Eldara asked while pulling his trousers on.

“Believe me, it’s her.”

“Why doesn’t she stop it, then?”

Wolfram laughed hysterically. “Stop it? She will be clapping her hands to spur them on! Those damn idiots!”

They left the room simultaneously. Wolfram was trying to button his jacket with one hand while in the other he was carrying his coat. The duke was dressed already. There was no surprise on any of the three guards’ faces, and Wolfram figured that at least half of the castle was already well-informed. The guards fell into the step behind them.

“So who is fighting?” the duke asked.

“Arlen von Schnauzer and Liuthor von Ferdinand.”

“Oh, just great!” Eldara grunted in disbelief. “One is a half-Demon, the other a full-blooded one!”

“I’ll fry both of them,” Wolfram spat. “Those fools!”

They tore outside into the cold morning air and then sped towards the crowd of onlookers. The fight was already on, the ice bolts flying left and right while lumps of ground rose here and there. Annoyed even more by the spectators’ lack of understanding that they could get hurt at any moment, Wolfram ran into the field before anyone could stop him. A gigantic wall of fire rose between the two duelists.

“Stop it this instance!” Wolfram growled. “What do you think you’re doing? You’re the guests in this house yet you dare fight here! Such a disgrace!”

“But, Wolfie dear, they…”

“Quiet, Mother!” Wolfram snapped at Cecilie. 

He turned to Liuthor von Ferdinand. He knew Liuthor, at least had seen him a few times in Blood Pledge Castle. He was from the territory Gwendal ruled, and technically von Bielefelds had hardly any influence there, and Wolfram was no longer the Demon King’s fiancé. It was common knowledge, however, that it was best not to anger the landowner’s brother. Wolfram knew that. He also knew that Liuthor would not want to face him in a direct fight. The man would lose spectacularly.

“You’re a guest here!” Wolfram repeated. “Stand down!”

Liuthor hesitated for a few moments, then lowered his hand and bowed. “Your Highness.” He started walking in the direction of the castle.

“Where are you going?” Arlen von Schnauzer shouted after him. “We are not done here!”

“You are!” Wolfram snarled at him, dispersing the wall of fire.

“What gives you the right to interfere into our duel?” von Schnauzer protested.

Wolfram glared at him. “Common understanding that you should respect your host!”

He could see that von Schnauzer was about to follow Liuthor. He didn’t know von Schnauzer, and the man didn’t know him and was going to ignore anything he said. Besides, von Schnauzer was older than him by at least a decade; older men didn’t tend to listen to younger men so easily.

“If you make at least one step towards him, it will be me you’ll be facing,” Wolfram snapped at von Schnauzer.

“Fine, then!” von Schnauzer snarled, squatting down with an intention to press his hand to the earth.

Wolfram could not believe this. With a flick of his wrist he tossed von Schnauzer backwards before he could summon his Earth Element. While the panicky man was rolling on the ground, trying to put out the fire on his coat, Wolfram summoned a fire lion and sent him forward.

“Try anything and it will take your head off,” Wolfram warned when von Schnauzer put his hands on the snowy ground. He saw the man stare at the burning beast above him. The heat coming off it must be scorching. Von Schnauzer raised his hands. It was starting to sink in that he had picked a fight he had no chance of winning. 

“Do you yield?” Wolfram asked in a few moments, having given the man some time to assess his situation. Von Schnauzer nodded frantically, and Wolfram dispersed the lion. “If you want to duel, do it somewhere away from here, where you can’t hurt anybody,” he said.

“But Wolfie, why do th-”

“Go back to the castle, Mother,” Wolfram said watching von Schnauzer stand up and embarrassingly brush his ruined coat off the snow and ash.

Cecilie quieted down and, with a sigh, headed for the castle. Aware that the show was over, the rest of onlookers started walking in the same direction. Von Schnauzer traipsed about in the yard for a minute and then walked off as well.

“Well done!” Eldara said cheerfully, siding to Wolfram in the field. Now there were only the two of them and their soldiers left. “I don’t even know what I keep my guards for!”

“Are you angry that I interfered?” Wolfram asked. He started walking towards the castle, following the crowd.

“A bit,” the duke said with a nod. “What if you were injured?”

Wolfram shook his head. “Are you kidding me? Von Schnauzer doesn’t even know how to properly wield his element! Besides, it’s my mother who started this mess.” He snorted. “One more voyage to find love gone wrong.”

“Ah, one of those. I’ve heard of them.”

“She must have used her perfume again. Honestly, that woman!”

“And you feel responsible?”

“Well, of course.” Wolfram shrugged. “You’ll have to forgive me for the spectacle, but I don’t think there was a better way to stop it.”

“A few Esoteric Stones would have done the trick. They would have lost any wish to use their magic in my land for a long time.”

Wolfram gasped. “You wouldn’t!” He gave the duke a more careful look. “You would,” he reconsidered mournfully. “And you promised me not to use them!”

“Wolfram, I promised not to use them on you or your suite. These are two different things.”

Wolfram rolled his eyes. “Well, of course,” he said sarcastically. There was, however, no point in arguing. He had already accepted that there was nothing he could do to change the duke’s view concerning Esoteric Stones.

“I wish you wouldn’t rush off into dangerous situations like that,” Eldara said in a moment. “But never mind that. All’s well that ends well. Tell me one thing – why a lion?”

“Mm? Oh, it is because it is fast, has sharp claws and teeth and, generally, people are afraid of lions. It wouldn’t have the same effect if I summoned a fire giraffe, would it?”

Eldara laughed. “No, it wouldn’t. It would probably be just as dangerous, though.”

“Slower and less effective,” Wolfram corrected him. “I can replicate any species, of course, but lions are most effective. I like dragons, too. But the ones I create are much smaller in comparison to the real thing, so I prefer lions. I’ve been summoning them for so long that now I don’t even need to think about the shape. Just happens mechanically.”

“I see. It was a big animal you summoned just now, and I am under impression that you can summon at least three more of that size.”

Wolfram was surprised. “I don’t think I’ve ever summoned more than two. Four of them would probably be impossible. Even if I were able to, I don’t think I’d be able to fully control them. I may end up killing myself.”

“Hmm…” Eldara laughed softly. “Now I look forward to our small outing to train with our elements even more.”

“To watch me kill myself?”

“No, Wolfram, to watch you excel. I think you aren’t aware of how much you have improved.” 

They entered the castle while Karela held the door for them. Wolfram wondered about the duke’s words while wiping his feet on the doormat. The previous time he had summoned a lion, he had noticed that it was larger than usual. However, wasn’t that just because he still hardly had any control over his element and misjudged the size? 

“By the way, since I don’t think we’ll have time to discuss this alone,” Eldara said, taking off his coat, “what do you think of the previous night?”

Wolfram blinked in unexpectedness. His neck started cramping with the need to look at Fajdal and other guards behind him to see their expressions. “I liked it,” he said. “I’d like a continuation.”

“That’s wonderful,” Eldara said, pushing his coat into one of his guards’ hands. “Well, I’m off to the baths. You’re welcome to join me.”

Wolfram blinked again. “Um. Alright. I’ll just get a change of clothing.”

When Wolfram entered the baths, he was both relieved and disappointed – there were about fifteen men inside. He should have expected this with so many guests in the castle. Walking past the soaking, washing, and drying people, Wolfram settled for the bath in the corner. He started taking his clothes off. It was somewhat awkward, but he used to undress with so many people around him while at Lesa’s Fort. 

The blond managed to wrap his lower body in a towel without flashing anything too much, found a free bar of soap and a basin, and set about his business. Yet, he could tell that he was being stared at. When he had washed himself and climbed into the bath for a soak, it seemed as if everyone suddenly decided that there was something magical about the bath he was in and climbed after him. Wolfram frowned. Deciding to just ignore them, he leaned his back against the wall of the pool and closed his eyes, relaxing.

“Do you know that you have a hickey?”

Wolfram recognized the voice as Reikia’s and kept his eyes closed in hopes that the other man would just go away.

“Here.”

Fingers brushed over his neck, and Wolfram went rigid, his eyes opening. He turned to give Reikia a glare. “Touch me one more time and I’ll break your arm. I’m not kidding.”

Reikia raised his hands to show that he meant no harm. “Fine, fine. Such sensitivity.” He watched Wolfram touch the side of his neck unconsciously. So Eldara had made his move. Well, now things were in their rightful places.

Wolfram’s hand froze in place when he noticed men staring at him. A few averted their eyes as soon as their gazes met, others, yet, gave him inviting looks. The tub was fully packed. What was with that exaggerated reaction? The blond wondered where the duke was and then realized that he was probably at the other side of the baths, covered by the steam, intentionally avoiding him. It was a good idea since Wolfram could remember a few scratches he left on the other man’s back. With a soft sigh, he closed his eyes again. This was nothing, however. Instead, he was afraid to even think what reaction his family members were going to have to him and the duke playing around. Gwendal would probably flip. Conrart…well, he didn’t particularly care about his reaction. Cecilie…maybe she already knew. Wolfram relaxed again. Hmm…wasn’t so bad, was it?

Tbc


	25. Part 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Kyou Kara Maou! – It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I’m not making any money from writing it.  
> Warnings: yaoi (male x male), violence, swearing, angst, drama. Wolfram-centric, out of character, original character.  
> Summary: With Yuuri’s upcoming birthday, Wolfram makes his decision. Where will it lead him and what is to become of them? Should eventually be Yuuri x Wolfram.  
> A/N 1: Yuuri – 18 years old. Wolfram – 21. Eldara – 32. Halea – 20. Athara – 18.  
> A/N 2: Greta doesn’t exist.  
> A/N 3: European/American/Japanese standards all at once depending on the plot requirements.  
> A/N 4: A tendency to ignore the anime/manga and supplement the story with my own imagined facts.   
> A/N 5: Season III is not taken into consideration, except for the fact that Wolfram’s uncle exists.  
> A/N 6: The umlaut in Gunter’s name is a bother.

**A/N 7: I’m looking for a beta-reader for this story. If you’re a native speaker, good at English grammar and are interested in beta-reading for me, please, contact me via email below. I’ll send you chapter 26, and we’ll see how it goes. Thanks :)**

**Bloom**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by chriscut

Part 25

It was the second day of the double celebration, and the throngs of people started thinning. At first, no one wanted to leave before the king did. When he did leave – at about four – others, who lived in Raizgad or close to it, started following His Majesty’s example.

“How did it go?” the duke asked Wolfram, who had just entered the hall, returning from his spar with Reikia von Estram.

Trying to smooth out a non-existent crease, the blond tugged at his left sleeve. “Umm… Quite average. I presume the only reason he wanted to spar with me was because it gave him one more opportunity to talk to me.” He looked at Eldara sheepishly. “It’s quite bothersome.”

Eldara swirled the wine in his glass, sighing. “Well, at least you didn’t kill him. I heard he was making a move on you in the baths. To tell you the truth, I didn’t expect him to be so bold in pursuing you. He must be quite taken with you.”

Wolfram’s face flushed red, and he shook his head in disbelief. The word indeed had wings! “Let’s not talk about it. Hopefully, he will be leaving tomorrow and I will never see him again.”

Eldara raised his glass to his lips to both take a sip and hide a smile. “I doubt he will leave.”

“Make him, then!”

The duke chuckled. “Now you’re behaving like a spoiled child.” He gave Wolfram a questioning look. “And I believed that you liked attention…”

“Not to this extent!” Wolfram protested. “It’s my mother who likes this kind of attention. She wallows in it until she sucks the guy dry. Ugh! I just want him to stop pestering me.”

Eldara’s face turned serious. “Pestering you? You… Wolfram, can it be that you have never had anyone court you before?”

The blond seemed to be surprised. “Court _me_? Well, of cour-!” he trailed off. He couldn’t exactly remember. There were various instances and incidents, but he couldn’t tell for certain whether those were considered courting or just harassment. And Yuuri… Instead of courting him, the king had done the exact opposite - avoided him.

The duke watched the blond carefully, then nodded. “I see. I think the problem is that you prefer to be the one to show initiative and to be in control. You don’t like it when it goes the other way round.”

Now Wolfram looked amused. “Don’t I?” All he could remember from his and Yuuri’s unhappy relationship was that the only thing he wanted from Yuuri was to show him any kind of attention. “I think you’re mistaken.”

“I disagree. You don’t show much interest in those who are after you. You like attention, but it is only from the person you approve first.”

Wolfram blinked at him. He gave this idea a few moments of thought. “Maybe,” he said finally. He doubted that. His and Yuuri’s engagement had been a freak accident where no one chose anyone. It just happened.

“It doesn’t really matter,” Eldara said. “I’m much more interested in your plans tonight.”

“I can easily include you into my incredibly busy schedule.”

“How lovely. At ten in your room?”

“Sure. But there’s only water on the table again,” Wolfram warned him.

“That’s okay. I won’t be coming for a drink, anyway.” Eldara sipped his wine again and saw Gunter von Christ staring at him from not far away. He smiled and saluted the lavender-haired man with his glass. Von Christ looked displeased and disapproving and quickly turned away so as to mask his sentiments. Eldara’s smile turned into a grin.

Wolfram looked around. “What are you grinning at?”

“I’m smiling at you. You look fabulous today.” The duke couldn’t help an inward chuckle at the way the blond arched a skeptical eyebrow. He, however, looked pleased.

In a few moments, they drifted apart and didn’t meet again for the rest of the evening. Wolfram was having a hard time escaping unwanted attention. It was not only Reikia von Estram now. After that morning in the baths, he found himself surrounded by men of various ages; rumors of some strange kind must have spread. Most men flirted openly, others more subtly, but the blond felt under constant pressure. He smiled a lot and constantly sent messages that he wasn’t interested.

Wolfram had noticed that Eldara was very popular amongst older men. No one flirted with him, though. Not as far as he could tell. The duke seemed to engage into long discussions with everyone who wanted.

When the evening drew near, most guests drifted off to their beds since they intended to have an early day for journeying home. Others, yet, wanted to take part in tomorrow’s hunting party. Eldara spent an hour in his office writing gratitude letters for the gifts that had been sent by those who, for one or another reason, couldn’t come.

He was leaving his study when Gunter von Christ intercepted him.

“I was just looking for you, Your Grace. Could I have some of your precious time?”

Hiding his smile, Eldara moved out of the doorway. “Well, of course. Please, come in.” He showed von Christ to the seat in front of his desk, but the other man shook his head.

“It has come to my attention that Your Grace holds an interest in Lord von Bielefeld.”

The duke’s mouth curved in a grin; von Christ didn’t beat around the bush. “The interest, I assure you, is mutual,” he said.

“Your Grace,” Gunter continued in the same monotone voice, “it would be in _everyone’s_ best interest if he found someone his…age.”

Eldara was immensely enjoying this. “He didn’t strike me as a man who needs to be told whose bed he should warm. Or does he always trust you to pick a right man for him?” 

Von Christ gave him a look clearly telling the duke that he believed that it was safer to sleep in a viper’s nest than his bed.

Demonstratively, Eldara rolled his eyes and sat down in his usual place behind his desk. “It doesn’t matter what happens here, he will travel home in about a month,” he said. “What are you afraid of?”

Von Christ sat down as well. “I do not want to insult you, but you are not the best choice for him.”

Eldara arched an eyebrow. “I’m well aware of that. And what do you want me to do? Push him into the arms of some random cajoler?”

“Well, of course not, but…”

“Listen, I owe him my sister’s safety; it is also in my best interests that no harm comes to him. At least as long as he is staying here. All Wolfram wants is some fun and some experience. I can grant that easily and make sure he doesn’t get his wings burned.”

Gunter snorted. “Aren’t you just babying him?” 

Eldara gave the other man a surprised look. “Babying? It was him who made the choice.”

Von Christ tapped his fingers on the desk impatiently. “Well, he can be naïve in these matters.”

“Wolfram? Naïve?” Eldara laughed softly. “Well, he might lack experience, true. But naïve?” He shook his head in amusement. “I think it’s him you should be talking to, not me.”

And with that their conversation was over. The duke politely but insistently showed von Christ out of his study. Eldara had promised to meet Wolfram in his room, but he had a feeling that von Christ had an inkling about that and would head there first. If not to brainwash the blond, then at least to thwart their date. 

It was, however, another person’s task to thwart it.

“Wolfram, you don’t know what you’re doing,” Yozak was saying to the blond, who was lounging about in his room.

“Then tell me.” 

Wolfram sounded bored, and Yozak resisted the urge to give him a good shake to wake him up from whatever rosy dream he had fallen into. He could understand that the blond starved for love, but he wasn’t supposed to jump everyone who showed at least a grain of affection!

“A mistake! That’s what are you doing!”

“Oh? So first you forbid wine, now you start interfering into my personal relationships? That’s not a very smart move, Yozak.”

Von Bielefeld still sounded bored, but there was danger lurking behind that boredom. “He’s a cunning bastard!” Yozak spat. “You can’t be serious about him! He…”

“I admire him.”

“There’s nothing to admire about that sly bastard!”

Wolfram rolled his eyes. “Now you’re just being unfair. You know, I’ll have to be one sly bastard as well if I want to take over von Bielefeld land.” He gave Yozak a thoughtful look. “Or maybe I won’t ever take over it – will marry Eldara and rule over Raizgad together with him. I’ll let my uncle have his fill. At least until I get bored with Eldara, or have a son.”

Yozak stared at him speechless. “Wolfram, are you fucking around with me?”

“Hmm… Somewhat. I did entertain this thought for a moment, though.”

“Why are you being so bratty?”

“Yozak, I don’t want to hear about this anymore. Don’t interfere.”

“Why the hell are you so bent on him?”

“He’s good in bed, Yozak, that’s why,” Wolfram said. “Oh, for gods’ sakes, Yozak!” he exploded in a moment. “Can’t I just fuck whoever I want? Why the hell do I need your permission? I’ve had enough of you and Gunter! Leave me alone!”

Yozak stared at him silently, then just nodded. He rarely saw Wolfram explode like that. The blond had a temper, but he always simmered or had silly tantrums. This was different. This was about boundaries. Wolfram was not going to tolerate this.

Something clattered behind the door, and Wolfram’s expectant eyes wandered there.

“I don’t think he’ll come today,” Yozak said, pushing back his chair. “Gunter went to have a word with him.”

Wolfram slapped himself on his forehead. “I can’t believe this! You sure know how to humiliate a man!” He looked at Yozak. “Why do you treat me as if I am a child of ten?”

“It’s not that, Wolfram. We are just worried.”

“It’s just sex, Yozak! What’s there to worry about?”

“Well, for example, syphilis! Or gonorrhea!” Yozak snapped at him feeling incredibly silly. He shouldn’t have interfered. He had mistakenly believed Wolfram naïve. He was in no way a victim, either. It was him who was after the duke, not the other way around.

\---

White puffs were leaving Wolfram’s mouth while he was sweet-talking his new horse. The mare had already been saddled and readied for him, but she was eying him mistrustfully. Her intelligent eyes were clear but she was a little nervous of surrounding people and hunting dogs. Listening to the soft and calm timbre of his voice, however, Rendar wasn’t trying to move away. Her silvery coat nearly shone like the snow around, reflecting the light. It was a beautiful animal indeed, and Wolfram could feel admiring gazes from around him. 

Soon, the mare let Wolfram saddle without as much as a snort. He stroked and patted her neck soothingly. She was just as gentle as Eldara had said.

Wolfram nudged the mare forward and she complied, the snow crunching under her hooves. The blond looked around the yard. It was occupied by about thirty people who were getting ready for the hunt. His eyes soon found Eldara further away talking to Yozak and Karela. He was on his usual mare, having obviously decided that the stallion needed much more work before he could saddle it publicly.

He finished talking to the captains at about the same time as Wolfram rode up to him. Both Yozak and Karela bowed and rushed off. The duke turned to look at Wolfram. Again, he couldn’t help grinning at the blond’s hat with bear ears. The first time he saw it, he nearly slipped off the saddle in surprise. It was customary, though, since several bodyguards also wore them. He had already seen Wolfram’s blue winter coat. Actually, his bodyguards wore the same coats. All of them had a large golden von Bielefeld coat of arms on their backs and a smaller one on the right side on the front. It also caught Eldara’s attention that the blond had strapped His Majesty Yuuri Shibuya’s gift at his side. All men wore swords, some carried spears, but Wolfram’s weapon was most eye-catching. One day the blond was going to get into trouble because of that shiny piece of costly metal.

“Good morning,” Eldara greeted. He nudged his horse closer to Wolfram’s. “Are you certain about taking part in the hunt?”

“Oh,” Wolfram said, shaking his head, “I’m not taking part in it. I’ll just mill around with my men. I don’t think I can handle fast riding yet.”

The duke nodded in agreement. “I’m not a big fan of hunting myself.”

“Not of animals, at least,” Wolfram said when the picture with the running pirates and the beach from some time ago surfaced from his memory. “People make a much more interesting prey, don’t they?”

Eldara’s eyes darkened. He chuckled softly. “They do, Wolfram. They really do. And sometimes I’m just content with what the sea washes out to the shore,” he added with a wink at the blond.

Wolfram rolled his eyes. “So I hear Gunter gave you a lecture yesterday about how to handle a frail and fragile me properly.”

The duke smiled. “That was to be expected; they care about you a lot. But I don’t think they have the right picture.”

“I think they do now,” Wolfram said. He opened his mouth to add something, but the horn sounded. He urged Rendar forward. The duke and both their suites followed. 

In a few moments, the yard was empty. For about half an hour Wolfram rode with everyone to the forest, then men split into parties, and soon Wolfram lost sight of them.

“And what do we do now?” Yozak asked when the last duke’s bodyguard disappeared among the trees. Horns were trumpeting at full blast, the duke probably chasing a fox or a rabbit.

“Enjoy the nature,” Wolfram answered. He looked around. They were standing in a small clearing, surrounded by pine trees. “Eldara told me that there’s a spring nearby that never freezes even during winter. I think I’d like to go and see it.”

Yozak gave the blond a long searching look. “I never deemed you for a nature lover.”

“I am not in the mood for your complaints. If you want to go after them, just go. I have more than enough men to defend me.”

The captain muttered something under his breath. “Maybe some other time. Where’s that blasted spring?”

“Somewhere south off here. He said we should see the steam from far away.”

They found the hot spring resort half an hour later. It wasn’t visible over the wooden fence, but the white vapor was rising from above it. There was also a cottage next to it, and an elderly man and a woman came out to greet the soldiers as soon as they rode into the yard.

Wolfram had readied a few towels for himself, while his men accepted the ones offered by the owners of the house. Soon he and two guards were soaking in the spring. The blond thought that he should have taken his mother and Gunter with him. Gunter, however, had some business to take care of, and his mother was still busying herself with her suitors. They were leaving for Shin Makoku tomorrow in the morning. Not a moment too soon either. A few more canceled duels for his mother and he was going to make enemies of the entire male population here.

The water felt heavenly, and Wolfram let out a content sigh. Resting his head against the stone pillar, he watched the steam rising into the air. He had been to a few hot springs in Shin Makoku where the ground waters usually held a faint but very particular smell of sulfur. Here, though, the air smelled of incoming rain. He wished Eldara had told him about this place earlier. Across him, soaking in the bath, Yozak looked positively bored. Wolfram was certain that despite the displeasure on his face, the bath would do him good.

The blond started and opened his eyes when the noise from inside the house roused him; the bath was so relaxing that he had nearly fallen asleep. Yozak’s hand automatically shot behind him to grope around the stony ridge and then wrap around the hilt of his sword. The other guard started rising out of the bath. The backdoor opened with a loud creak, spilling a few soldiers wearing both von Ashira and von Bielefeld crests. Uncertainly trampling around on the snow, both sides looked bewildered. The door creaked again, and the soldiers parted to let the duke through. He was wearing only a towel around his midsection and slippers, and this was probably where most hesitation stemmed from. Wolfram found himself laughing. He watched Eldara come down the cleared path. He kicked his slippers off.

“Do I look so funny?” the duke asked, easing himself into the bath next to Wolfram. Exhaling contently at the pleasant water, he raised his hands to tie his hair into a bun so that it would not get wet.

Yozak gave the duke a slantwise look. He wasn’t certain what Wolfram was laughing about. Personally, he wanted out of the spring as fast as possible since he suddenly found himself looking at anything but the duke.

“Funny?” Wolfram laughed. “No. Quite the opposite. There’s nothing funny about you in a towel,” he said with an admiring arch of his eyebrow.

Yozak started contemplating the thought of drowning Wolfram. That would sober him up!

Leaning against the stone wall, Eldara laughed. “You’re in a good mood, dishing out compliments just like that.”

“I love it here. By the way, what about the hunt?”

“I left that to my most enthusiastic men. I doubt anyone will notice that I’m missing.” 

“And I thought you would want to show off by killing all the poor creatures you can find in the forest.”

Eldara chuckled. “Why would I? _You_ don’t seem to be swayed by the numbers of dead animals.” He watched Wolfram’s face turn pink. The blond threw an uncertain look at his captain and blushed even more. Without even being aware what he was doing, the duke reached out his hand to brush over the flushed cheek. He suddenly realized that he could get used to that bright emerald look, silky blond hair, and incredibly handsome face. Wolfram was indeed someone he enjoyed spending his time with. Von Christ had probably been right to fret - he might not want to let go of Wolfram so easily.

The blond’s eyes widened slightly when Eldara leaned in and pressed his lips to his. The kiss was gentle and firm and something was different about it. Wolfram soon found all of his awareness gone, his arms coming to wrap around the older man’s shoulders on their own.

“Dismiss your guards,” Eldara told him between their kisses. “Unless you want to have an audience while I make you come.”

Dizzy with the vapor and sudden lust, Wolfram raised head to look above the duke’s shoulder. There was not a trace of Eldara’s men, the duke probably having dismissed them with some sort of a sign. Or maybe they had already been trained to make themselves scarce in similar situations. Yozak, however, was staring up at the sky with the most torturous look on his face. The other guard had taken a keen interest in a twig he had found next to the stone wall. Two more were milling about next to the backdoor, looking as if they would soon start clawing at it. 

“You…” Wolfram had to clear his throat to make himself be heard. “You may go, Yozak. And take everyone with you.”

“Gods be praised!” Yozak muttered, shooting out of the water like an arrow even before Wolfram could finish the sentence.

“You’ve planned this, haven’t you?” Wolfram said accusingly, when they were finally left alone. His hands slid over the duke’s back, caressing the skin. “Sending me to a spring…”

“But, of course,” Eldara said, leaning in for more kisses. “I’m a bit surprised you found it so fast; I expected to be first to arrive and greet you.”

“I have two earth wielders in my suite.”

“Ah, that explains it.”

“Yessss…” Wolfram hissed when Eldara’s mouth grazed on the side of his neck. The other man’s big and calloused from sword work hands were roaming over his body, caressing, feeling. One of them slipped into the water to cup him under the towel, making the blond gasp. Eldara’s fingers stroked and squeezed him alternatively up to the point where he could not help thrusting into his hand. 

The spring water was warm and steaming, and the lust made Wolfram even hotter. He wanted Eldara would just make him come, but the other man kept teasing him, stroking slower when he wanted faster. Wolfram took the initiative, his hands leaving the other man’s back and shoulders and diving under the duke’s tented towel. Eldara was nearly as hard as he was, and, again, this made Wolfram marvel at himself being able to cause that. 

Neither of them was saying anything, only puffs and grunts leaving their mouths. Wolfram was stroking the length in his hand, but his concentration wasn’t on that. Instead, his focus was on Eldara’s hand that was doing miracles under his towel. He could hear himself gasping with every stroke. The entire time the duke had him pushed against the stone edge of the spring. Wolfram felt dominated and it felt good too. And when the other man’s palm groped between his legs and around his backside and then a finger slid into him, he stiffened in surprise. The next moment, though, he was coming so hard that even his teeth jarred. 

Eldara watched the younger man blink dizzily up at him. He had seated the blond on the stone edge since he had nearly fallen over. The heat must have been too much. 

“Are you alright?”

Wolfram blinked at him again, then nodded. He brushed over his forehead. “I’m okay, but I kind of…blanked out?”

Eldara chuckled and stroked his back soothingly. “I wish I could say it was because I am incredibly good, but it’s just the heat. The difference between the temperatures here and outside is vast; I shouldn’t have done it here.”

“Oh.”

Wolfram looked down at the placid self nestling between his thighs. Through the rippling water he could see Eldara’s jutting length. That couldn’t be comfortable. Wolfram slid off the edge and back into the water. He reached out under the other man’s towel. He was tentative at first, but the duke’s soft pleasurable grunts made him bold again. The man was an enjoyable sight to watch. He let his free hand roam over the duke’s body. Due to his regular workout, Eldara was nicely toned. He looked bulkier without clothes than with them.

It didn’t take long for Eldara to come, and this time Wolfram didn’t miss the face he made. It made him grin and swell with satisfaction. When the duke opened his eyes, he arched an eyebrow at the blond’s grinning face.

“What?”

Wolfram shook his head. “No, nothing.”

“Hn…” the duke hummed doubtfully. He didn’t dwell on it, though, and leaned in for a kiss. He still couldn’t get over the fact that it seemed that Wolfram had barely had any experience in these matters. He wondered if he had even been kissed before coming to Kardera.

Wolfram could feel that particular curiosity the duke was showing. After he had said that he had never done these things before, the man had become more considerate, more careful but not to the point where it would make it awkward between them. Wolfram was grateful for that. He could tell, though, that Eldara might want to have a word with him concerning a few things. But for now it was just good to kiss and be kissed.

He had been kissed by other men before. Wolfram could still remember that rich kid his rich family had brought with them while they were negotiating for the exceptional right for silk trade in the capital. Wolfram had already been curious at the time and didn’t refuse the attention the other boy started showing him. Nothing much happened: they kissed and touched each other. Wolfram couldn’t remember if he had ever come while they had been experimenting. It had probably been only curiosity, their sexual urges not strong yet. It hadn’t lasted long, just a couple of days, until the family failed to strike the deal and left for home. Wolfram had never seen that kid again. Years later, he realized that the kid had probably been meant to get closer to him in order to influence Gwendal’s decision. Since Wolfram had realized this only much later, it hadn’t left lasting damage, only some kind of bitter nostalgia when he remembered his first kiss.

“What are you thinking about?”

Caught in his reverie, Wolfram blinked at the duke. Their noses were touching. “Umm… I think I still feel a bit off,” Wolfram admitted. “Let’s get out of the spring.”

TBC


	26. Part 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Kyou Kara Maou! – It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I’m not making any money from writing it.  
> Warnings: yaoi (male x male), violence, swearing, angst, drama. Wolfram-centric, out of character, original character.  
> Summary: With Yuuri’s upcoming birthday, Wolfram makes his decision. Where will it lead him and what is to become of them? Should eventually be Yuuri x Wolfram.  
> A/N 1: Yuuri – 18 years old. Wolfram – 21. Eldara – 32. Halea – 20. Athara – 18.  
> A/N 2: Greta doesn’t exist.  
> A/N 3: European/American/Japanese standards all at once depending on the plot requirements.  
> A/N 4: A tendency to ignore the anime/manga and supplement the story with my own imagined facts.  
> A/N 5: Season III is not taken into consideration, except for the fact that Wolfram’s uncle exists.  
> A/N 6: The umlaut in Gunter’s name is a bother.  
> A/N 7: Thanks to my new beta bishie82 ^_^

**Bloom**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by bishie82

Part 26

The castle was ringing with laughter and songs. Most of those who had taken part in the hunting were enjoying themselves at the table, eating freshly roasted and boiled meat. Wolfram had grown hungry during his outing and was eating with unconcealed appetite. He was nearly moaning around the juicy bits of the boar Eldara had supposedly killed. In truth, it had been one of the duke’s men.

The merriments also continued after dinner. The musicians and singers spared neither their throats nor their instruments. They went on till the late evening, when most guests had drunk themselves under the tables. Wolfram was neither a good dancer nor a singer, thus had avoided shaming himself by engaging into a few inspiring discussions about today’s hunt. He expressed his deepest regrets of not having been able to take part in it.

In the morning, shortly after breakfast, most guests departed. The duke saw everyone off then disappeared to take care of odds and ends that usually were the aftermath of hosting such big banquets. Now there were only a few guests left, and those seemed the kind that were able to entertain themselves quietly. Since Eldara had disappeared right after the meal, Wolfram decided that he should use the opportunity and do the unpleasant but necessary task – write a few letters.

Once in his room, he sat down in front of a stack of blank sheets of paper; he was certain he’d need every single one of them. He had come to a decision and it had not been an easy one. But now he believed it was, definitely, the right thing to do.

Since the blond expected it to be the easier one, he started with a letter to Yuuri. He crumpled up the first paper after the first two sentences. The next draft lasted longer. He managed about seven sentences, until his frustration won and he tossed it across the room. He did not want to write it at all – dealing with Yuuri was still painful.

Finally, half an hour later, he was done and no one was going to make him rewrite it. Wolfram looked at his masterpiece.

_Your Majesty,_

_I hope my letter finds you in good health and high spirits. First and foremost, I would like to express my gratitude for the wonderful present. It will be an honor to carry it at my side. It is regrettable that Your Majesty had not been able to take part in the celebration._  
_Secondly, in answer to Your Majesty’s inquiry about my health, I assure you that I am sound and healthy. Thank you for asking._  
_This letter should reach Your Majesty on the arrival of Lord Von Christ and my mother. Let us hope their journey home will be safe. I should return to Shin Makoku in about a month although I do dread to set my foot on a ship again._  
_I hope everything is well with Your Majesty and Your family._

_Yours Faithfully,  
Wolfram von Bielefeld_

Wolfram exhaled in relief and folded the letter. He pushed it aside and took a new sheet of paper. This was going to be a much longer, full of unnecessary explanations and exclusion of a lot of truth kind of letter. Gwendal, however, would still know all the “hows” and “whys”. Yozak and Fajdal were going to make sure of that.

It took the blond over an hour to spin out a five-sheet letter for Gwendal, and even then he wasn’t certain if he had done it exactly the way he had wanted it. When he was done, he asked the guard at his door to call Gunter then returned inside to wait for him at his desk.

When von Christ entered, Wolfram was holding the sword in his hands, and the older man didn’t know whether it was a good or a bad omen. He was very curious about what Wolfram needed.

“I would like you to send Lord Weller a message for me.”

Reluctantly, Gunter nodded. This didn’t promise anything good. Why not write a letter? But then, Wolfram had never written Conrart a letter. Not after…

“Tell him I appreciate the sword - it’s a magnificent blade. Also, tell him that if he is interested in my progress here, he can write me a letter.”

Gunter’s eyes were round in disbelief. It was Wolfram’s proposal of peace between him and his half-brother. After these long years - it finally happened when he least expected it. He was stunned to say the least.

“O-of course,” Gunter said. “I’ll tell him.” He thought that, maybe, the duke’s influence was good for Wolfram – unless this was a part of some cunning plan. He, however, doubted that.

After hearing the news, he assumed that Conrart would want to visit Kardera and see Wolfram in person. However, Conrart would be too afraid that such a radical move would ruin the laid foundation for the possible renewal of their relationship.

“I also want to ask you to deliver two letters,” Wolfram said. “One is for Gwendal, the second is for His Majesty.” Wolfram walked to the table where he took two envelopes then approached von Christ.

“Of course,” Gunter said, taking the letters. He watched Wolfram sit down and pour himself a glass of water. Gunter shook his head in refusal when Wolfram offered him a glass. Von Christ twirled the letters in his fingers. “Can I ask you what resulted in your sudden change of heart concerning Conrart?”

It seemed that Wolfram wouldn’t answer. The blond was studying the contents of his glass and a few moments passed before he finally shrugged. He sighed. “I think it was a long time coming. The final push was Athara’s attitude towards Eldara. The sword… It’s just a pretext for me to send him a message.” 

“Mmm… Yes, I see, of course,” Gunter hummed, his eyes flying through one of the letters. He waved the letter in the air. “Why are you doing this? You can’t send it like this!”

Wolfram raised his head to look at him and saw the opened letter in his hands. “Oh, for gods’ sakes Gunter! Didn’t anybody teach you not to open other people’s letters?”

“Well, it has no seal on it. Besides, I did it in your best interests.”

Wolfram frowned at him. His new signature ring was still in the making and was going to be delivered to him in a few days. For now, he was sending his letters unsealed. Wolfram grunted in contempt. “I know how the letter sounds, but I am trying to avoid familiarity. I don’t want it to be personal between us.”

“Wolfram, you’re being unreasonable. You’ve known him for five years and it’s not going to just disappear.”

“Well, I want it to!”

Twirling the letter in his fingers, Gunter stared at Wolfram for a moment. He knew perfectly well where it was coming from, but Yuuri hadn’t deserved this. Wolfram was being cruel. He had read few of the previous letters the blond had written to Gwendal and knew how much they differed. Even when they sometimes intentionally missed some information, they were always affectionate and hearty. There was, however, not much he could do to change Wolfram’s mind about Yuuri.

When Gunter left, Wolfram lingered in his room but found nothing to occupy himself with. Thus, he decided to return to the hall and mingle with the other guests. Just as the duke had guessed, Reikia von Estram had not left for home and this made Wolfram wonder what the man was up to. When he was walking past Reikia, the baron noticed and greeted him with a curt obligatory nod then turned back to the woman he had been talking to. This made Wolfram think, that perhaps, he was being silly for reading too much into his stay.

The blond milled around the table with snacks, found a plate with his favorite goose liver pate, then gave Reikia’s back one last curious look. 

While idly standing and munching on his delicious snack, Wolfram could distinctly hear Gunter’s voice engaged into a discussion about shipping something to and from Shin Makoku. He and other two men were sitting on the other side of the hall, behind the piano. Their enthusiastic conversation was drawing other guests’ attention.

Wolfram didn’t stand alone for long. Soon an elderly man approached the table for a glass of wine. A servant rushed to his side. The man took the glass and, with a friendly look, saluted Wolfram.

“These cufflinks go well with Sir’s brooch.”

Wolfram glanced at his cufflinks. This morning he had chosen a pair from the many he had received for his birthday. He raised his eyes back to the man.

“Could it be that these are your gift?”

The man grinned. “Indeed they are. I am pleased we share similar taste.”

Wolfram returned the smile. He tried desperately to remember the man’s name but his memory was blank. Noticing his hesitation, the man chuckled.

“I’m Eran von Sarda,” he introduced himself.

“Oh,” Wolfram said, blushing lightly. He wondered how he could have missed Fredrick von Sarda’s father.

“It’s not surprising,” the man said as if reading his thoughts. “There were so many people on the first day.”

Wolfram gave an apologetic nod. The man probably pitied him since there was a rumor that he had been after Halea as well - or was this an attempt to gloat? It didn’t seem so, at least.

“You and Eldara are quite a match,” von Sarda said suddenly, making Wolfram’s jaws stop working on the sandwich.

The blond blinked at von Sarda. “Uh… What makes you say so?” he asked carefully.

Eran chuckled again. “You aren’t even trying to deny it?”

“Why should I? I think it’s obvious already.”

Von Sarda’s hearty laughter made a few guests turn to them. “That’s why,” he said with a wink. “That’s why I say you two suit each other.”

Wolfram waited for him to elaborate but the man just gave him an enigmatic smile and with a nod, drifted away to the other side of the hall, where Halea and his son were. Wolfram was left to wonder what exactly von Sarda had in mind.

Within an hour, the duke appeared again, saw a few more guests off, had a light snack, then found Wolfram and asked him if he would want to do some training with their elements, as arranged. The blond agreed readily and, in half an hour, they left the castle and its nosy guests. 

They rode in a party of ten, with their guards. Wolfram could see that neither Yozak nor Fajdal were excited by the idea of this little excursion. Yozak, however, had recently been nagging him too much. Thus, he decided not to pay too much attention to his sour face.

The snow was soft and fluffy under the horses’ hooves. It would gust out in small waves when they rode through it. There wasn’t much of it yet and the horses passed easily. There was barely any wind. Further into autumn and eventually into winter, mounds of snow would appear and Wolfram doubted outings like this would be going possible. The men from both sides seemed to be glad about the opportunity to enjoy the fresh air. Light conversations soon struck up here and there. Soon, even Yozak’s face brightened and he nudged his horse closer to Karela. The two men started discussing something in the local language. Wolfram watched them thoughtfully. It was going to be difficult for Yozak to return to Shin Makoku. Wolfram couldn’t read Karela Ine as well as he could Yozak, but he could see that the captain liked Yozak as well. Due to their job, they disagreed and quarreled a lot, but there was undoubtedly a spark between them. 

Wolfram knew that he was exactly in the same situation. He had been aware of the fleeting nature of his and Eldara’s relationship from the very beginning. It was very likely that it had been exactly the reason why he had taken the initiative – he felt that whatever happened, he could simply leave it behind when he went back to Shin Makoku. He knew now, though, that it wasn’t going to be so easy.

Wolfram saw their destination about an hour later. It was an empty field far away from any houses or trees. It was obviously a commonly used training ground. Nearing the actual training area, due to the thin layer of snow covering burrows and mounds, Wolfram had been warned to ride slowly and carefully. Yet, Rendar and the other horses still stepped into a couple of holes and blundered about.

Wolfram and Eldara dismounted and passed the reins to their guards. The blond still wasn’t certain what exactly was expected from him in this outing. As far as he was concerned, he simply wanted to test his element and see if everything had returned to normal. Eldara, though… The duke seemed to be expecting something special from him.

The guard that was holding Rendar’s reins stepped back when Wolfram’s fire element surged to life. The blond held a small fireball above his gloved hand tentatively. Feeling no discomfort or a sense of wooziness, he expanded it more. Observing his body and finding no difficulties, he created a few more fireballs to warm up.

Curiously, the duke watched six fireballs floating about the blond. Wolfram wasn’t one to waste time, but this was impressive for one’s warm up. Generally, strong fire-wielders had a very big advantage against earth-wielders because they could use various summons to aid them, and Wolfram was extremely good at them.

The ground shook lightly, indicating that the duke was also getting ready. Wolfram gave him an uncertain look. Were they really going to spar? He was excited, but this was dangerous. They could seriously injure each other. The guards had already moved a respectable distance away. Yozak had his hand on his sword. He looked like someone who was ready to butcher everyone around him. Wolfram felt guilty for putting the man in this kind of position.

“Ready?” the duke asked when he saw Wolfram summon one sizeable fire lion. The snow all around it had already melted and was currently steaming.

“I…suppose?” the blond said uncertainly.

The ground shook and Wolfram was flung backwards. Turning around in midair, he softened the fall with his hands, rolled over and got to his feet again while his flaming lion was already speeding towards the duke. The lion leapt into the air, but instead of landing on Eldara it hit a wall of earth. Loud whooshing sound and sparks of fire shot in all directions when the lion exploded. The wall of earth became a stream of molten lava and slowly flowed down to the ground. Eldara stepped back so as not to get burned.

Wolfram summoned another lion. The ground shook under his feet again and he stumbled, landing on all fours. Eldara was trying to disorient him, to make him lose his sense of balance. This was the common strategy earth-wielders used. Wolfram cursed softly when the folds of earth suddenly tore out of the ground and tried to squish him. He rolled over a few times, tried to get back to his feet, then was flung backwards again. He landed on his back, snow and his thick coat cushioning his fall. He had no time to check and wasn’t certain what happened to his summon and called for another fire lion. Turning to his side and getting on one knee, he launched a sizeable fireball in the general direction of the duke.

This time the animals were smarter and didn’t attack head on. Eldara watched them circle around, trying to find an opening in the wall of earth he had surrounded himself with. He flung a lump of soil at one of them but the lion easily avoided it by jumping sideways. He shook the ground under them, but, in contrast to their master’s senses, theirs weren’t affected at all. A fireball exploded somewhere near him, but he couldn’t even spare a glance. He had to keep Wolfram busy, since fighting three opponents at once wasn’t going to work.

A flaming lion jumped easily onto the incoming wave of soil then landed back on the firm ground. It puffed lightly and flames shot out of its nostrils. The master was somewhere at the back. The orders weren’t clear, the connection flickering.

Wolfram was having trouble staying upright due to the continuous shaking of the ground under his feet. He had been thrown into the air a few times but managed to land successfully. He could see that his lions had cornered Eldara, but that didn’t stop the duke from shaking the earth. Wolfram waited for a calmer episode and flung two fireballs at the duke. This time they were much more accurate, crossing the air with more confidence and speed.

Eldara was too late to spot the two fireballs. He somehow managed to deflect them with another wall of earth, but they had been so close that drops of molten lava splashed at him. The duke raised another wall of earth to stop them, but this made him lose control over the protective wall he had around himself. Seizing the opportunity, the lions charged.

The ground started shaking again and Wolfram dropped to his knees. His sense of balance was so off now that he didn’t even know which direction he should be turning to. He was somehow able to stand up, but everything was shaky and wobbly and his head felt heavy with disorientation. He suddenly felt sick.

Eldara barely avoided the scorching heat when one of the lions flung itself at him. He jumped aside and summoned another wall of earth. He was too slow and now the second lion was almost on his back. Wondering if Wolfram was trying to kill him, he tried to raise a second barrier. Then he changed his mind and just ripped the ground off and flung it in front of him.

A swish of air hit Wolfram’s face and he instinctively tried to back off. His shaky legs didn’t listen to him and he stumbled. Then, suddenly, Karela smashed into him. They whooshed through the air and landed – none to gently – into a mound of snow a few meters away. Wolfram was lucky. He landed safely on top of Karela with the duke’s captain cradling his head. Karela was not so fortunate and cursed when his shoulder hit the ground painfully.

Dazed, Wolfram raised his head off the captain’s chest. He was suddenly grabbed by his arms and hauled to his feet.

“Are you alright?” Yozak asked, patting Wolfram over his coat, searching for possible injuries.

“Y-es…” Wolfram nodded weakly, pushing Yozak’s hands away when the captain started unbuttoning his coat. “Nothing’s broken. I’m just…” Pushing Yozak aside made him lose the support he badly needed, and he swayed while trying his best to stay upright. “I think I’m seasick,” he said, grabbing Yozak’s shoulder.

Karela was sitting in the pile of snow, cradling his dislocated shoulder and muttering under his breath. Seeing that Wolfram hadn’t been hurt, Yozak pushed the blond into Fajdal’s arms and squatted down at Karela’s side.

“Is he alright?” the duke asked after having reached them. He was still breathless. His clothes were singed here and there, and his dark violet hair burnt in patches.

Yozak snorted without raising his head. “Which one?”

Eldara considered flinging him a few meters into the air but then decided not to bother. He wasn’t certain what had happened. A few seconds ago he had been grappling with two rabid lions when they suddenly vanished and he was presented with the sight of both Karela and Wolfram on the ground.

“You nearly crushed him with that lump of soil!” Yozak accused.

The duke followed the motion of Gurrier’s head to the huge heap of earth nearby. He turned his eyes back to Yozak and Karela. His captain was giving him a look, a look that was asking him if he was in his right mind. Eldara turned to Wolfram, who was still leaning against Fajdal.

“He’s alright,” Fajdal said. “He’s just nauseous.”

Now the duke realized why the two beasts had been so vicious, Wolfram, obviously, had lost control over them. It had also been his fault – he had disoriented the blond completely. Eldara huffed and shook his head – this spar had been the stupidest idea ever. He had nearly killed Wolfram, and Wolfram’s lions had nearly torn him into pieces. They were lucky that the final outcome only involved his burnt hair, Wolfram being nauseous, and Karela’s dislocated shoulder.

While waiting for Wolfram to get better and be able to ride a horse, Yozak helped Karela to pop the bone back into place. There was a lot of cursing, again, but it subsided quickly.

Eldara apologized to Wolfram for putting him in danger. The blond, who was now able to stand on his own and didn’t look so pale anymore, shook his head. He pointed at the duke’s burnt hair.

“I think both of us miscalculated. You will have to do something about that.”

The duke ran his hand over his scorched hair. “That bad?” Wolfram’s nod made the duke sigh.

They returned to the castle when the sky was already darkening. With an order to send the barber to him at once, Eldara quickly vanished to his chambers. His barber, however, appeared to have gone to town and no one knew when he would return. The duke sent two guards to search for him. Then he left his study to see how Wolfram was doing.

But before he could do so, Gunter confronted him as soon as he stepped out from his chambers. “I hear there was an accident during the outing?” he said, his voice nearly an enraged growl.

“Yes, _an accident_ ,” the duke confirmed. “Luckily no one was seriously hurt. Only my pride,” he said, pointing at his hair.

Von Christ’s mistrustful eyes swept over his face in contempt. It was obvious that the man was seething inside. The duke leaned closer to him and took him by his shoulders. He turned the surprised man around.

“Look,” he said softly, while inconspicuously pointing further in the corridor at Wolfram, who was talking to Cecilie. “Why would I want to kill him when I can have him?”

Von Christ’s whole body stiffened and he turned his head to face the duke. He knew, however, what the man was trying to say. It was both an outrageous insult and an uncanny compliment. Wolfram was young, handsome, and sharp, he would be an asset to any bed. Von Christ brushed the duke’s hands off his shoulders none too gently.

“He doesn’t have much experience.”

The duke gave the older man an amused look. “Experience is not something I would look for in someone who is barely twenty.”

Gunter’s lips pressed into a displeased line and he shook his head. “Still… I…”

“You treasure him,” Eldara said with a nod. “I will not be as insolent as to assert that I treasure him as much as you do. He, however, is dear to me in his own way. I would never hurt him intentionally.”

Von Christ grunted. “I’d like it to believe so, but this is…”

“Your Grace!”

Both of them turned to a guard who had run up to them.

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry for interrupting, Your Grace, but Sir Luana has broken his hip. He’s…”

“Have you called for Roldan?”

The guard nodded. “Yes, Your Grace, the doctor should be here in about twenty minutes.”

“I’m sorry, Sir,” the duke told von Christ, bowing his head. “We’ll have to finish this some other time. I have some serious matters to attend to.”

Gunter nodded. “Of course, Your Grace.”

Addressing his guard, the duke asked, “How did he even break it?”

“He slipped on the carriage stairs, Your Grace, and fell down to the ground,” the guard explained.

“He’s too old to travel already,” the duke said. “Last time he sprained his arm while trying to shoot a boar.” 

Both men were soon seen rushing down the corridor. Watching the duke’s and the guard’s hurriedly receding backs, Wolfram approached Gunter. “Where did they rush off like that?” he asked curiously.

“Von Luana has broken his hipbone apparently,” von Christ said.

Wolfram let out an acknowledging grunt. “Ah, the elderly gentleman who drank himself under the table yesterday. He was already having a hard time walking due to his old injury. I can only guess how wine took care of that.”

“I think he was mostly sober already,” Gunter said, giving Wolfram a searching look.

“Mm?” the blond wondered.

“We need to talk, Wolfram – somewhere alone.” He could already see the discontent frown forming on Wolfram’s face. The younger man could already presume what it was about. Nonetheless, he nodded and led him to his room. They sat down at the table with the bowl of fruit.

“It was a mistake to spar,” Wolfram said, without waiting for von Christ to start talking. “We nearly killed each other. I underestimated him. He’s just a half-Demon and I didn’t think his element could be so powerful. I would have not agreed if I had known.” The blond raised a hand when von Christ opened his mouth. “Let me finish, Gunter. On the other hand, he also underestimated me. He probably believed I was still affected by the concussion. I am not, it seems. I was perfectly fine. Well,” he said softly while a light blush covered his cheeks, “getting seasick or nauseous is quite common for me.” He shrugged. “He apologized, but it was also my mistake.”

“Do you believe him, Wolfram?” Gunter asked.

“Yes, Gunter, I do,” Wolfram answered just as seriously as von Christ had asked. “I…” he trailed off, trying to explain it - to express himself better. However, he just shook his head when words eluded him. “I just do,” he said sincerely.

Von Christ watched him thoughtfully. He didn’t believe that the duke had wanted to hurt him either. It had only been a stroke of bad luck. Still, the duke should have known better – Wolfram was still very young, still just a child. His main problem with von Ashira was that he had much more experience behind his shoulders than Wolfram. It was very evident. The two were drawn to each other, doubtlessly. He didn’t think that Wolfram was in love, not yet at least. Wolfram had already been hurt once and he was still recovering, still licking his wounds. He didn’t want to see Wolfram in a similar situation again. Eldara was treating Wolfram well, but that meant nothing. Yuuri had always treated Wolfram well, but the end result had been a disaster.

Tbc


	27. Part 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Kyou Kara Maou! – It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I’m not making any money from writing it.  
> Warnings: yaoi (male x male), violence, swearing, angst, drama. Wolfram-centric, out of character, original character.  
> Summary: With Yuuri’s upcoming birthday, Wolfram makes his decision. Where will it lead him and what is to become of them? Should eventually be Yuuri x Wolfram.  
> A/N 1: Yuuri – 18 years old. Wolfram – 21. Eldara – 32. Halea – 20. Athara – 18.  
> A/N 2: Greta doesn’t exist.  
> A/N 3: European/American/Japanese standards all at once depending on the plot requirements.  
> A/N 4: A tendency to ignore the anime/manga and supplement the story with my own imagined facts.  
> A/N 5: Season III is not taken into consideration, except for the fact that Wolfram’s uncle exists.  
> A/N 6: The umlaut in Gunter’s name is a bother.

**Bloom**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by bishie82

Part 27

“Your Grace,” the barber greeted with a bow after entering the duke’s chambers.

“Good evening, Armant,” the duke answered without turning around. He was sitting on the chaise lounge reading a letter, the meek light from several oil lamps illuminating him. Eldara lowered the letter onto the coffee table in front of the chaise longue and pointed at his head. “Do something about this.” 

The barber gasped in horror when the duke turned around. Bemoaning the imminent loss of the long beautiful hair, Armant closed the door and approached to take a closer look. The damage became even more apparent. With a regretful shake of his head, the barber lowered the satchel he had brought with him onto the coffee table and started unpacking. 

“What happened, Your Grace?” he asked, his gaze following the duke, who had stood up and went to take two unlit candelabras from the table in the middle of the room. “Did Your Grace fall asleep with a cigar in Your mouth?”

“You know I don’t smoke,” Eldara said reproachfully. Without elaborating any further, he carried the candelabras to the coffee table and started lighting them from one of the oil lamps. He briefly turned to the door when someone knocked. Turning back to what he was doing, he said loudly, “Enter.”

Roldan Efibus entered the room, his eyebrows immediately rising at the sight of plentiful lights on the coffee table.

“Ah, it’s you, Doctor,” the duke said. “How is von Luana doing?”

“He’s as good as he can be, Your Grace,” the doctor said. “I joined the bones together. Considering his age, it’s going to take a long time for him to heal. He was in a lot of pain after waking up, so I gave him a calming herbal mixture to relieve it. And, in case it's not very effective, a bottle of rum. I left my instructions with the nurse, so she will take care of that. He is going to spend a lot of time in bed.” 

The duke nodded. “I sent letters to inform his sons about the accident; I expect they will pay him a visit sometime next week.” He turned to the doctor to see him eyeing his head curiously. “I was met by an unfortunate event during my outing today.”

The doctor’s eyebrows rose lightly. “Is that unfortunate event in any way called Wolfram von Bielefeld?” he asked, not hiding the amusement in his voice. “I’m rather surprised it’s only Your hair that is missing, Your Grace.”

Eldara sighed. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“How could I, Your Grace!” The doctor was grinning now. “Since no one called for me earlier, is it safe to assume that the other party is faring better than Your Grace?”

The duke rolled his eyes. “Yes, I believe he’s completely fine. He does get nauseated and disoriented easily, though. That was exactly the cause of this,” he motioned at his burnt hair. 

“An awful sight, if I may say, Your Grace. Could have been much worse, though,” he added, his voice now serious.

The duke agreed with him inwardly but said nothing. He walked to pull a chair closer to the coffee table and sat down. Armant, who was done preparing, immediately stood behind the duke awaiting instructions. Eldara shook his hair out of the lose band and heard another gasp from his barber. 

“Just cut all of it off,” Eldara said. “It will grow back. A bit of a pity in winter, though.”

“I think you needn’t worry about getting cold this winter, Your Grace,” the doctor said, smiling meaningfully.

Eldara turned his head to him. “And how could my father st-”

“He couldn’t, Your Grace. We’ve already agreed on that,” the doctor said. “I will depart now if Your Grace will excuse me. I’ll visit the patient in the morning to see how he’s doing.”

“Ah, yes, goodnight, Doctor. Thank you for coming.”

\---

“Oh,” Wolfram said at the sight of the duke, who was walking towards the baths. Wolfram had already washed himself and was on his way to his room, being accompanied by Yozak. 

They stopped in front of each other, the blond’s eyes fixed on Eldara’s head. He stared at the older man for a few seconds. “I have to admit that this may suit you even better than your previously long hair,” Wolfram finally gave his verdict.

The corners of the duke’s lips curled up at the compliment. “Thank you,” he said with a pleased chuckle. “Armant has outdone himself indeed. I didn’t believe there was still something left to be salvaged.” He brushed over his now considerably shorter hair. It felt strange under his palm. His head felt much lighter than usual, the hair was now barely chin-long. Since it weighed less now, it had also become wavier. It was parted, so it fell more on the right side, over the burnt patch there. He wasn’t used to this kind of haircut and kept brushing the unruly strands out of his eyes and behind his ears.

“Going to bed already?” Eldara asked Wolfram, his fingers reaching out for the left lapel of the younger man’s bathrobe as if to feel the fluffy material. At Wolfram’s side, Gurrier tensed but the duke ignored him; the captain better get used to these displays.

Wolfram inclined his head, his emerald eyes reflecting curiosity. “I was. Do you have anything else in mind?”

“I do have a few ideas,” the duke said softly. “I don’t suppose you’d be interested in taking a bath one more time?”

“I certainly would be,” Wolfram said, smiling. “However, Gunter and Athara are taking one as well at the moment. Whatever you have in mind… Let’s just say I’d prefer you to reveal it in the privacy of my room.”

“Oh. Of course,” the duke agreed gladly.

With a nod at each other they went in opposite directions. 

“Have you gone into rut or something?” Yozak grumbled while they were climbing the stairs to the second floor.

Wolfram stopped to give him an annoyed look. “I thought we have already discussed this. This is no business of yours.”

“That may be so, but I never said I’d start liking him. He drives me mad!”

Wolfram rolled his eyes and continued climbing the stairs. He doubted Yozak would change his opinion about Eldara and, in fact, he didn’t think Yozak should. He just wished the captain would stop reprimanding him every time he saw the duke and him together. He was already nervous enough even without Yozak and Gunter’s constant over-sensitiveness regarding the matter. 

The captain saw Wolfram to his room, exchanged a few words with the guard at the door then was about to leave but changed his mind. He knocked on the door and after receiving permission, entered. Wolfram was sitting in an armchair with an empty glass resting on the coffee table in front of him. Gurrier gave it a suspicious look but it seemed that there had only been water.

Wordlessly, Yozak crossed the room and stopped in front of Wolfram. A little surprised, the blond leaned back into the armchair and looked up to address the captain. 

“Did something happen?”

Yozak shook his head. “No, it’s just that…” he trailed off. An embarrassed and angry flush spread over his face, making Wolfram wonder. “Ah, to hell with it!” Yozak grunted. His hand dove into the right pocket of his trousers and when he pulled it out, there was a sudden rain of shiny packets on Wolfram’s lap.

“What’s this?” the blond asked, holding one of them between his fingers. It was not something he had seen before. The material was glossy and had an unnatural smell. He squeezed it to discover that something inside it felt a little spongy. It didn’t seem like the packet was from this world.

“You do know about condoms and all that, right?” Yozak muttered, wishing it were Gunter instead of him here telling this to the blond. Wolfram was way past the age for these kinds of conversations. He saw the blond blink at him then continue to stare at him with confused eyes.

“Eh? Huh? Why?” the blond grunted, frowning, not quite understanding why Yozak had mentioned that. Condoms made of sheep intestines were widely used all over Shin Makoku to prevent undesirable pregnancies. There were a few more remedies for that, but this was the most common. 

“These are much better.”

“Huh? But…”

“These,” Yozak cut him off, “can prevent venereal diseases such as syphilis, gonorrhea and… I am probably too late in giving them to you though, but still it’s…” he trailed off at the look Wolfram was giving him. “Okay, so I’m not too late,” Gurrier concluded. He saw the shiny packet drop from the blond’s fingers. “Yes,” the captain nodded slowly as if talking to a child, “use them.”

“Umm…” Wolfram drawled awkwardly. “I… Umm… I’m pretty certain he doesn’t carry anything like that.”

“Don’t be a fool,” Yozak snorted. “You can’t know for sure.”

“Umm…” Wolfram hummed. His face was slowly turning pink. He lowered his eyes back to his lap where at least ten of the shiny packets rested. He took one of the packets again and the blush on his face came out in full force.

Faced with the sight of the rarely embarrassed Wolfram, Yozak felt he was regaining his own confidence. “You open it, take it out and hold it by the tip and roll it down your…” he trailed off with a tactful cough. 

“Ugh…” Wolfram grunted whether in protest or embarrassment, most likely both. “Where did you even get these? It’s not from Shin Makoku, is it?” 

“They are Gunter’s. I think he took them in hopes of…” Yozak trailed off with a frown. He waved his hands frantically. “I don’t even want to speculate why he brought those here.”

“Neither do I,” Wolfram agreed with him. “Umm… Thanks,” he said, his cheeks reddening again. “I’ll…”

“Just use them,” Yozak said, taking pity on the younger man. “You’d save us and yourself a lot of trouble. Besides…”

“Thank you,” Wolfram said, raising his hands and wishing for Yozak to disappear out of his sight. “I understood it already.”

When the captain left, Wolfram gathered the packets off his lap and placed them into the first drawer of the nightstand, which stood next to the bed. He could not shake off the weird feeling that overtook him – Gunter stocked up on condoms before leaving Shin Makoku. That was his policy – better ready than sorry. 

Gunter was discreet concerning his sexual encounters. Wolfram himself had never been introduced to any of his lovers, but he intuitively knew that there had to be more than a few. Then, in Kardera, von Christ and Yozak must have had an enlightening conversation about him and Eldara, which resulted in the decision that he was the one who needed those condoms most. 

Disgruntled and embarrassed, Wolfram flopped sideways onto the bed. He then rolled on his back and, in the dim light provided by a few candles, stared at the ceiling. He was startled when he heard a knock on the door. He had already been drowsing. Sluggish, he went to open the door.

Eldara chuckled at the sleepy sight of him. Today had been full of events and it was not surprising at all. The blond tried to stifle a yawn and Eldara reached out to ruffle through his hair affectionately. The blond hair felt soft and smooth under his palm. It had almost regained the length that he remembered from King Shibuya’s birthday party.

“Mm?” Wolfram hummed, giving a sleepy look to Eldara from under his palm.

“Well, whatever I had in mind,” the duke said, smiling at him, “is probably best postponed for tomorrow.” He lowered his hand and looked around the poorly lit room.

“Are you sure?” the blond asked him with a playful pout. He rubbed at his eyes.

Eldara chuckled. “You don’t look very convincing, Wolfram. Just go to sleep.” He felt the younger man’s hands curiously touch his still damp hair. Wolfram had been fascinated with his long mane and the novelty seemed to intrigue him. 

Their eyes met and Wolfram leaned in to press their lips together. The kiss was slow, unhurried and soon Eldara found that he wanted more. His palm reached to cradle the blond’s nape as he slipped his tongue in to deepen the kiss – his other hand pushed the door shut. Wolfram still felt somewhat awkward, but he answered eagerly. It became obvious that Wolfram wasn’t going to get his rest as soon as he should.

Wolfram grunted when his back pressed against the wall. Now, Eldara had him trapped in the corner, just right next to the wardrobe. They were still kissing but he could feel the duke’s hands working on the knot of his bathrobe. His eyes opened in surprise when one of the hands found the opening between the folds and slid effortlessly in to caress his left thigh. It felt good. He closed his eyes again, melting back into the intense kiss.

The blond’s hands were roaming over Eldara’s bathrobe, trying to feel him over it. Then, finally, they started working on the fluffy belt. Wolfram undid the belt and parted the bathrobe. He ran his fingers across the smooth chest. He tensed when Eldara’s hand left his thigh and gave him a few slow teasing caresses between his legs. He was already hard, and his cheeks colored since the older male wasn’t so excited yet.

Sensing his discomfort, Eldara chuckled, breaking the kiss. He found it endearing that Wolfram could find time to worry about such trivial things. He pressed his hand to the blond’s underwear to rub him over it again. “Don’t worry about it,” he said, his mouth grazing the pale column of the blond’s neck, “I can make you come as many times as you want.” He couldn’t help laughing again at the heat coming from Wolfram’s face.

“You’re patronizing me,” Wolfram accused him, the seriousness in his voice failing due to a soft pleasurable whimper.

“A little bit,” Eldara agreed with another soft nip. Wolfram was still learning about his own preferences, and both of them knew that. There were many things he didn’t know yet. He, being the more experienced one, was only too eager to show them all to the blond.

Slipping deeper into the open bathrobe, Eldara’s hands glided to Wolfram’s hips. Then, slightly pulling the younger man’s body off the wall, he continued to run his hands up the smooth back then down again to settle on the small of the blond’s back. He pressed their lower bodies together. Wolfram grunted softly. He gave the duke a clouded look, his hands trying to brush the annoying bathrobe off the older man’s shoulders.

Eldara’s hands left the small of Wolfram’s back and went down to his backside where they squeezed him firmly. The younger male felt himself, being turned around and maneuvered towards the bed. The duke pushed Wolfram until the blond’s legs propped against the bed. He reached down to throw the covers aside and then pushed again, making Wolfram sit down. He sat next to the blond and, with the younger man’s help, got rid of Wolfram’s bathrobe. The air in the room wasn’t very warm, but Wolfram didn’t feel the coolness when his skin was bared. He was warm and excited.

The duke guided the younger man into another series of soft, playful kisses. Eldara soon climbed into the bed. Kneeling, he ran his hands over the blond’s bare sides and urged him to join him. They continued to kiss and caress each other, Wolfram finally relieving Eldara of his robe as well. He tossed the robe to the floor on top of his. 

The duke pulled Wolfram closer to himself. Making certain that the blond didn’t hit his head against the headboard, he pushed him backwards, making him lay down.

His head resting on the pillows, Wolfram gave the other man a heated look. Eldara was between his thighs now and, impatiently, the duke’s hands dove for his underwear. 

It was pulled away smoothly with Wolfram raising his hips for him and lifting his legs to quickly slip out of it. The underwear joined the pile of clothes on the floor. Eldara’s lustful eyes seemed to devour him and, even if he was very much willing, Wolfram felt slightly intimidated. Seeing his reaction, the duke leaned down to give a reassuring kiss. He ran his hands over the blond’s thighs soothingly.

Wolfram hummed in pleasure when Eldara’s teeth nipped on his collarbone. His hand dove into the duke’s hair on its own. Despite this voiceless request from the blond to continue to pay attention to that same spot, the duke’s mouth left the blond’s chest and moved south. Wolfram’s raging erection didn’t seem to be comfortable and he probably wanted to touch himself to relieve it.

The blond inhaled sharply in surprise when wet warmth engulfed the tip of his penis. He reached for the duke’s head not certain if he wanted to push him away, stop him or make him take him even deeper. He couldn’t help a shiver that ran down his spine when Eldara’s head moved.

“What are you doing?” he gasped out when the duke’s head bobbed down again.

The duke let the length slip out of his mouth with a soft popping sound. “What does it look like?”

Wolfram’s face flushed with embarrassment. He snapped, “Looks like you sucking my di-” He didn’t finish his sentence, his face becoming even redder.

Eldara chuckled. His tongue snuck out to place a teasing lick on the very tip of the blond’s erection. “Want me to stop?” The blond’s fingers tugged at his hair reproachfully, and the duke laughed again. “Just lay back and enjoy,” he said, running his hand over the blond’s side. He could see that there were still questions reflecting in Wolfram’s eyes, but they would probably be answered or just disappear soon on their own.

Eldara continued to pleasure him with his mouth and Wolfram’s head reclined on the pillow. His eyes closed while new sensations washed over him. His breathing turned heavy, every exhalation punctuated by a needy sigh. His neck and chest were turning pink – he was close. Realizing this, Eldara upped the rhythm. Wolfram’s hand gripped at his hair firmer while his hips tried to follow Eldara’s rhythm. The older man restrained him and palmed the heavy sacks. He was rewarded with a loud moan and raised his head to look at Wolfram. The blond was watching him with a hooded look in his eyes. When their eyes met, Wolfram held his gaze for a couple of seconds then, embarrassed, turned his head sideways. Enjoying the blond’s embarrassment, Eldara sucked harder and gave the jewels in his palm a gentle squeeze. He was rewarded with a loud gasp from the blond. The next second, without any warning, the blond was coming in his mouth.

Still lightheaded with his orgasm, Wolfram turned back to Eldara. “Ugh, I’m sorry,” he apologized hoarsely to the surprised look on the duke’s face. “I…”

Eldara gave one last lick to the softening member and released it from his hand. “You worry too much, Wolfram. Will you relax finally? I never said I don’t like to swallow.” Eldara had to admit that he added the last sentence just to see Wolfram’s embarrassed reaction. He thoroughly enjoyed them.

The duke’s voice was just as rough as his own, laced with lust and Wolfram looked down between their stomachs where the older man’s erection was full and throbbing. He thought that he should do the same to Eldara in return. He wasn’t certain he was qualified, though.

The look on the blond’s face was priceless, Eldara didn’t think he had ever seen a similar rainbow of emotions on one face before. Wolfram was obviously eager but uncertain. The emotion then changed to somewhat scared, then dizzy, eager again and finally to uncertainty. Not waiting until all of them turned into overwhelming panic, Eldara leaned back and kneeled. He started stroking himself. Another rainbow of emotions engulfed the blond’s face. In a moment, Wolfram’s hand covered his and, with a demanding squeeze, pushed it aside.

“Don’t make me feel useless,” Wolfram muttered, embarrassed.

Eldara’s blue eyes narrowed at the blond. He shivered and grunted softly when Wolfram’s thumb rubbed over the slit. “Useless?” the duke repeated. “Who said so?” He bent down a little to give Wolfram a kiss.

The position wasn’t comfortable for long, thus the blond pushed himself up with his other elbow to meet the duke halfway. The duke was still between his thighs. The sound of their wet kisses filled the room while the blond continued to stroke the older man. Eldara came with a quiet groan, his seed coating his stomach and the blond’s fingers. Catching his breath, he rested his forehead on Wolfram’s shoulder. He could feel Wolfram petting his hair affectionately with his other hand and couldn’t help smiling tiredly into the pale shoulder. Today had been a long day.

In a few minutes, without talking much, they cleaned themselves up and went to sleep.

\- - -

Wolfram woke up late. The bed next to him was already empty. With a yawn, he rubbed his eyes and rolled over on his back to sprawl under the warm cover. He felt rested. Actually, he felt better than he had in a while. Enjoying the pleasant warmth, the blond wondered if he was already too late for breakfast. After a few minutes of lounging, he finally made himself leave the bed with the intention of dressing. For some reason, the first thing that caught his eye as he got up was the fancy sword leaning against the wardrobe’s side. He couldn’t tell what exactly, but there was something that bothered him each time he looked at it. Now it had brought on a recollection about how they first found Morgif.

The memory made Wolfram brood over Yuuri and himself again. Chasing after Yuuri had a lot of influence on his outlook on various things. Now he had realized that it had also messed with his mind. Yuuri had never meant to, nor had he ever cared to influence him, it just happened spontaneously. Yesterday… It felt good to entrust one’s first times to a more experienced partner – to someone who understood. Wolfram wondered how it would have been with Yuuri. Both of them would have been nervous wrecks, not certain about anything.

With a grunt, Wolfram checked himself in the mirror and closed the wardrobe. Daydreaming about these unrealistic situations always made him sad and miserable, and yet he somehow couldn’t stop. There had to be something wrong with him for him to keep torturing himself.

When he appeared in the dining room, Halea had already finished eating. The others were nearly done as well. With a quick apology, Wolfram joined the table and one of the servants rushed to his side. 

“Thanks for letting me sleep in,” Wolfram told the duke.

The table went quiet for a few seconds. Then, politely, most of the chewing and clicking of flatware resumed.

Eldara was giving Wolfram a somewhat surprised look. He was able to mask his confusion quickly, though. “Well, you really looked like you needed your rest,” he said casually. Keeping in mind that Wolfram had seemed to be reluctant about everyone knowing about them sharing a bed, he hadn’t expected the blond to suddenly be so open. The duke cast a curious look around the table.

Von Christ was staring at his pancake with disapproval. Cecilie, who was obviously hardly affected by the revelation, was talking to Fredrick von Sarda. Halea, meanwhile, was giving him a reproachful look. The most interesting reaction, though, was that of his brother. Athara was gaping at Wolfram with something akin to amazement that was bordering on admiration. Mystified by this strange reaction, Eldara kept staring at his brother until Athara noticed and lowered his eyes back to his plate. 

The duke wanted to talk to Wolfram after breakfast but the messenger from Neryan von Sedera arrived. Not wanting to make his old friend wait, Eldara met the messenger at once to see what he wanted. The matter appeared to be urgent, and he summoned Karela immediately. The Baristas had found the trail of the woman and her family. Neryan wanted them either gone from the country or turned in. Now it was a matter of principle, and Eldara ordered Karela to round the family up in a safe place and get in touch with Sharp Ronny. He arranged the matters quickly and scrupulously.

After being finished and done with that issue, he focused his attention to the attached message that contained the exhaustive account of trade between their lands for the last three months. It took Eldara the entire morning to go through it. It seemed that nothing was missing and he passed it to his trade advisor for further investigation and approval. Then he wrote his reply to Neryan. 

Noon came, and lunch passed without any incident. Nevertheless, the duke could tell there was something that was bothering Wolfram. The blond was unusually glum. He also disappeared from the table as soon as they were done eating. To his surprise, Eldara later found him visiting Ernest von Luana. The recuperating man was in quite some pain even with the prescribed tea. Nonetheless, he was telling Wolfram about his past travels and battles in the sea with fiery passion. The blond was listening and nodding his head intently and Eldara could not help but wink at him. He was graced with a short amused smile and that most likely, meant that Wolfram wasn’t angry at him. Not too terribly at least.

When von Luana noticed the duke in the room, he stopped talking, and instead started apologizing to him for causing inconvenience. They exchanged various pleasantries, and seeing that his presence didn’t offer as much comfort as Wolfram’s, Eldara took his leave. He returned to his study, where he dove into a pile of documents that had accumulated while they were celebrating their birthdays. He worked for an hour finding it more and more difficult to concentrate. Wolfram bothered him. The thing that bothered him even more was that, he was bothered by Wolfram. Seeing that it was useless to continue, the duke finally pushed the rest of the documents aside and left his chair to search for the blond.

Tbc


	28. Part 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Kyou Kara Maou! – It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I’m not making any money from writing it.  
> Warnings: yaoi (male x male), violence, swearing, angst, drama. Wolfram-centric, out of character, original character.  
> Summary: With Yuuri’s upcoming birthday, Wolfram makes his decision. Where will it lead him and what is to become of them? Should eventually be Yuuri x Wolfram.  
> A/N 1: Yuuri – 18 years old. Wolfram – 21. Eldara – 32. Halea – 20. Athara – 18.  
> A/N 2: Greta doesn’t exist.  
> A/N 3: European/American/Japanese standards all at once depending on the plot requirements.  
> A/N 4: A tendency to ignore the anime/manga and supplement the story with my own imagined facts.   
> A/N 5: Season III is not taken into consideration, except for the fact that Wolfram’s uncle exists.  
> A/N 6: The umlaut in Gunter’s name is a bother.

**Bloom**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by bishie82

Part 28

Eldara left his study and climbed upstairs to see how Wolfram was doing. The nagging feeling that there was something off with the blond had only been intensifying. When he reached the second floor, his suspicions were confirmed. Wolfram was sitting on the sofa near the banister, with his back to the first floor and was staring at a large palm tree in front of him. Wolfram wasn’t known to be interested in plants and the look in his eyes was blank, brooding. Salt was sitting on Wolfram’s knees purring, while the blond was stroking him absently. The duke wondered when the two became such good friends.

After having witnessed Wolfram’s unusual aloofness during breakfast and lunch, Eldara had been subjected to speculations about its cause. Was Wolfram uneasy after having woken up alone? Surely the blond wasn’t so sensitive. Or had he made the mistake of being too forward? But surely no man would react like that to oral sex. Or was it actually the opposite, and he had been too considerate, which in turn made him come across as a patronizing oaf?

Wolfram started in surprise and turned his head when the sofa dipped. Without a word of warning, the duke was suddenly sitting next to him. The cat opened one eye and closed it again, enjoying the warmth coming from the palm stroking his fur.

“What’s bothering you?” Eldara asked the blond straightforwardly. Frowning, Wolfram gave him a confused look, which made Eldara elaborate his question. “You’re… Well… You seem somehow uneasy?”

The uncertainty on Wolfram’s face was replaced by hesitance. He shook his head. “It’s not really that. It’s…” Embarrassed, he averted his eyes from Eldara’s. “Really, I’m fine.” He shook his head again. “This is…”

“Did I do something you didn’t like the previous night?”

“Oh,” Wolfram said realizing that the duke had taken this the wrong way. “No, no,” he said waving his hands, trying to allay Eldara’s concerns. “You didn’t. It’s that…” His look then fell over the guards standing further down the corridor. They certainly couldn’t hear them when they were talking so softly, but it bothered Wolfram nonetheless. “Umm… Let’s go to my room,” he suggested motioning at the stationed guards. He tried to lift Salt off his lap, but the cat sank his claws into Wolfram’s trousers and growled in protest. Wolfram grunted in pain and pushed him off his lap none too gently. He stood up and started walking towards his room.

“I’m sorry, it’s really not you,” Wolfram apologized again when they were in the room. He frowned at the way his words sounded. “Umm… It’s…” lost, Wolfram trailed off. He felt confused and embarrassed. He didn’t know if he should tell Eldara what it was about, when he himself couldn’t exactly understand it.

There was something helpless about Wolfram, and Eldara thought that maybe he shouldn’t have asked. It was ridiculously hilarious indeed, the way he felt bothered about Wolfram. Von Sedera would die laughing if he saw him now.

“It’s alright,” Eldara said when the younger male still couldn’t find the words to express himself. “If it’s not something I can change, then it’s…” He faltered at the soft laughter that escaped Wolfram. There was some bitterness there, and he waited.

With a sigh, Wolfram flopped onto his bed. “You’ve already changed that,” he explained his outburst to the other man, who was standing in front of him and looking at him with confusion. “It doesn’t matter, really. I just realized how truly pathetic my engagement to Yuuri was. I think this made me…sad.”

“Ahh…” the duke drawled, enlightened. He had finally grasped the end of the thread leading to the problem, but it was obvious that he should have presumed what it was all about. “Was it only a political move, the engagement?” Eldara asked even though he knew that it wasn’t that. Wolfram wouldn’t be reacting so sensitively in that case. He just needed to make the blond talk.

“No. I loved him,” Wolfram said honestly. “I probably still do. Our engagement was a farce, though. It was just a misunderstanding when he slapped my left cheek.”

“Oh.” Eldara was surprised. There had been various rumors floating about, but he hadn’t expected this particular one to be true - this had seemed to be the most unlikely one.

“It might have worked out actually,” Wolfram continued. “I got used to the thought of the engagement. But I’m a man, and he… He had a problem with that. With him I always felt as if I lacked something, as if there was something wrong with me. I mean there had to be a reason why he never responded. The simple fact was, however, that I, a man, disgusted him. The very thought of being with me appalled him. The entire time I felt so…so…”

The blond never finished the sentence, but he didn’t have to. The words that flashed in the duke’s mind were “useless”, “dirty”, “desperate” and a few others. Wolfram’s droning voice had been clear, but it was only the surface. He wanted to assure Wolfram that none of them was true, but that might only make the younger male break down in front of him. Besides, Wolfram knew that, and he wasn’t telling him this to receive his pity, he just wanted understanding. Thus, Eldara stayed quiet, waiting for the younger man to collect himself.

Wolfram was relieved when there was a knock on the door and someone asked for the duke. He watched Eldara walk towards the door. The blond had never intended to share his experiences and thoughts with Eldara. And now, he was feeling rather shocked and embarrassed that he had just poured everything out in this manner. Despite this, he wasn’t regretting having told Eldara everything because there was also the feeling of relief.

The blond could barely keep himself from blushing when the duke left the door, and walked back to him. Eldara held out a small leather bag with an attached note on the rope keeping the bag tied. He shook it, as if it were a prize to be coveted by Wolfram.

“Now you will have to dance or sing to get this,” he told Wolfram lazily lying on the bed.

“What’s in there?” Wolfram wondered. Then his eyes brightened with realization. “Oh, oh! Could it be my new signet ring?”

The duke nodded. “Yes, and I still don’t hear you singing or dancing.”

Wolfram chuckled. “If you did, you would start begging me to stop.”

“Now that’s a lie. I don’t know about your singing abilities, but you are a passable dancer.”

“Yes, ‘passable’ is the keyword here,” Wolfram said, laughing while sitting on the bed and getting ready to stand up to get the pouch. “You, however, forgot to add ‘hardly’ to that.” He reached out for the bag, but the duke moved his hand away. 

The younger man stood up from the bed and tried to take the bag again. However, Eldara stepped away, moving it out of his reach.

“We are about the same height,” the blond noted, amused.

Wolfram advanced closer, and the duke hid it behind his back and, when Wolfram leaned in, their bodies came flush. His hand slid over the older man’s arm to get the bag with the ring. However, Eldara maneuvered the bag out of the blond’s reach again by transferring it to his other hand, making Wolfram wind his arms around the older man in an attempt to capture it. 

The blond realized that he wanted this game to last longer. As if sensing his thoughts, the duke’s mouth descended on his. The kiss was short and playful and turned into a series of soft pecks. Eldara still didn’t give up the bag and Wolfram pushed against him, trying to make him move backwards, so that he could corner the older man against the opposite wall. 

Eldara’s back hit the wall, and there was no retreat. Wolfram’s deft fingers closed around the bag in his hand. Eldara thought about resisting but then let the blond take it. The warmth wafting from the younger man’s body was most enticing. Wolfram’s emerald eyes were already hooded with lust. He loved how Wolfram’s formerly suppressed sexuality was manifesting itself. 

Eldara leaned in to press his mouth to the blond’s again. He slipped his tongue in and set on mapping out Wolfram’s mouth thoroughly. When he was finally done, he pulled away. The blond’s eyes opened to give him a dazed look. 

Having received all the agreement he needed, the blond tugged Eldara off the wall and started maneuvering them towards the bed. He lifted his right hand to toss the bag onto the bedside cabinet where it lay unopened and forgotten throughout the next twenty minutes.

Wolfram’s fingers started working on the buttons of Eldara’s jacket. The buttons were small, and the shaky digits tugged at the fabric impatiently. The duke’s hands covered Wolfram’s and moved them away. Still holding onto them, he turned them around and pushed Wolfram down onto the bed. Following the blond, he climbed into the bed so that he was next to the younger man. He slid his hand in between the blond’s thighs and up his crotch, which caused a sharp intake of air from the other male. Wolfram was hard already. Teasingly, Eldara rubbed his palm against the tented trousers. It didn’t seem like the blond had any preference of a position yet.

A soft sigh left Wolfram’s mouth when the palm massaged him again. Nearly purring, he lifted his hands to continue unbuttoning the older man’s jacket. He finally opened it and tugged at the sides of the duke’s shirt to get it out of his trousers. Once done, he slid his palms beneath the shirt to caress the warm skin. It felt good to feel the taut muscles underneath it. The strength that he could feel enticed Wolfram.

Eldara undid Wolfram’s belt and let it slide down the side of the bed. He had to pull away lightly in order to shrug his jacket off. Once done, he leaned forward again, the blond’s hands returning to caress him under his shirt. He leaned even lower and kissed Wolfram. 

The kiss left Wolfram breathless and made it difficult to concentrate. He hummed when Eldara’s hand stroked him through his trousers again. Then it slipped down in between his thighs and pressed against his entrance lightly. Through the trousers, a finger rubbed him there teasingly. It drew a few circles then pressed against it again. A flare of lust shot up the blond’s spine. Suggestively, the digit probed him there, increasing and lessening the pressure. Wolfram didn’t know why, but that made him so aroused that he grabbed Eldara by his shoulders and tugged him down. 

The duke’s teeth enclosed around the blond’s earlobe and he bit down gently. “Do you want me to put them inside you?” he whispered, rubbing his fingers against Wolfram’s entrance again. He could feel the heat wafting from the blond’s face and knew that the other man was blushing. Not answering, Wolfram just breathed against him heavily. He knew that Wolfram probably didn’t even know what exactly he wanted.

Eldara’s hand slipped out from between his thighs and Wolfram gave him a questioning look. Eldara stroked the front of his trousers again. He could feel that there was a wet spot on the front of the blond’s trousers. Chuckling, he started unbuttoning them. 

The blond reached out for the duke’s belt. He managed to remove it at the same time when Eldara’s hand slid inside his underwear. He tensed and shivered when the duke’s fingers wrapped around him and pulled him out. A few droplets of pre-cum ran down the shaft. 

Eldara stroked him to smear it over the shaft. He gave a few more strokes and let go. Wolfram had opened Eldara’s trousers as well, but the older man moved away from the bed before he could touch him. The duke pulled his trousers and underwear down and tossed them onto the floor. Then he climbed back into the bed where Wolfram was sitting, watching him with hungry eyes. He hooked his fingers into the blond’s trousers at his waist, and the younger man lay back down again. He lifted his hips to let Eldara pull the trousers off.

Wolfram shrugged his jacket off too. Now only with a shirt covering this body, he thought that he should feel more embarrassed, but Eldara was naked from his lower half as well. The older man was hard to boost and Wolfram sat down to reach out for the bobbing shaft. He gave a few tentative strokes and let go so that Eldara could climb back into the bed.

The duke moved into a sitting position as they started stroking each other. This was new to Wolfram, and he felt embarrassed when his and Eldara’s eyes met. That didn’t lessen his arousal at all. It actually had the opposite effect. He lowered his eyes to the duke’s lap and stroked faster. 

The heat was coming out off Wolfram’s chest, coloring it pink. He was close when Eldara moved his palm away and pushed him down on his back. The blond tried to stroke himself, but the duke caught his hand, not letting him. For a few moments, he just held Wolfram pinned beneath him. Panting lightly, they stared at each other. Wolfram closed his eyes when the older man leaned down to kiss him. 

A minute later, the duke pulled away and reached for his clothes lying beside the bed on the floor. He pulled something out, but Wolfram’s view was obstructed and he couldn’t see the object. He, however, could presume what it was. His presumption appeared to be true when Eldara turned around and uncapped a small round container. With the tips of his fingers, he scooped up a little of the thick ointment and rubbed them together evenly within his fingers. He tossed the container further onto the bed then kneeled next to the blond.

The duke motioned for him to lie down and, swallowing his embarrassment, Wolfram did. He spread and bent his legs lightly and, unsure but eager, lay down on the bed, waiting. The blond held his breath when he felt Eldara’s fingers slide in between his thighs again. They were slippery and this time they didn’t stall. After finding the entrance, one of them immediately slipped in. It felt quite strange and Wolfram squirmed. The finger wiggled about and moved back and forth until it became slippery inside him. Then, it started rubbing against his prostate and it felt quite good. Eldara kept it up for some time and soon Wolfram had an immense urge to stroke himself. This time Eldara didn’t move his hand away. 

It felt strange but pleasant, Wolfram finally decided. Eldara kept rubbing him there in tune with his hand and it was most arousing. Wolfram stared down his stomach, at his own moving hand over his swollen arousal and at Eldara’s arm between his legs. Normally, the sight would have made him embarrassed, but the pleasure was making him quite shameless. The problem was that Wolfram wasn’t certain what was expected of him.

The second finger slipping into him only strengthened the pleasure since it felt more intense. Wanting to give something in return, Wolfram moved his hand to Eldara’s lap. He batted the flaps of the duke’s shirt away and started stroking the other man. The pressure against his prostate became even more intense and the blond closed his eyes. The slippery friction inside him was making heat engulf his entire body. It made him want to spread his legs wider, which he soon unconsciously did. His hips started following the rhythm of the thrusting fingers. In answer to his reaction, the digits moved inside him faster and he moaned softly.

His breathing had turned harsh and he was about to come. He didn’t want to come before Eldara, but that was impossible since he couldn’t force himself to stop stroking his member. He was almost there, and he grabbed a handkerchief from under the pillow. He was just in time as he came in a second. A soft grunt left his lips, his body seizing up. Eldara’s fingers kept moving inside him to draw out the pleasure, then, when Wolfram’s body relaxed again, he pulled them out.

When Wolfram opened his eyes, he saw the duke watching him from above. That was one lusty face, if Wolfram ever saw one. There were beads of sweat on Eldara’s forehead and, as far as Wolfram’s knowledge extended, he looked like he was about to fuck him senseless. Wolfram thought that he wouldn’t mind if he did. 

Nothing of the sort happened, though. Wolfram wasn’t certain whether he felt relieved or disappointed when the duke took the soiled handkerchief from his hand, tossed it aside and then guided his hand to his throbbing groin. The blond stroked it a few times then looked around for the round container that the duke had used just minutes ago. Once found, he uncapped it and lubricated his hand then started stroking Eldara. All the while, the duke was giving him a hungry look, and Wolfram felt excited.

He might have gotten ready for the second round, but it didn’t take long for him to make the duke come. Wolfram used the same handkerchief to prevent him from spilling on the bedding or his clothes – it was still too early in the day.

They lay next to each other, enjoying the afterglow. Their bodies soon started cooling off and, in general, the two of them looked funny sprawled like that on the bed flashing their goods. Having the same thought, Eldara threw the cover over them.

Wolfram turned to him. “Do you always carry lubricant in your pocket?” he wondered with a grin.

“No, only when I expect to be blessed with your attention.”

Wolfram rolled his eyes. “That’s cheesy. Try something else.”

“How about… I always keep it about me when there’s someone around that I’m interested in?”

“That’s more like it.”

In a few minutes Wolfram sat up and reached out for the small leather bag on the bedside cabinet. He untied the laces and opened it. He upturned the bag and shook the ring out of it and into his palm. It was an exact replica of his old one that had saved his life. Wolfram had no doubts that the pirates would have killed him if not for the exclusive signet ring on his finger. 

The blond opened the note attached to the bag. The message was in one of Kardera’s dialects and Wolfram passed it to Eldara to read it for him. They were the usual greetings and salutations from the goldsmith. The blond put the signet ring on. It was neither too big nor too small, the exactly right size, but it somehow felt strange on his finger now. He held his hand out in front of him to evaluate the ring from afar. It wasn’t the exact copy after all – this one had been made a little bigger to fit the current size of his fingers.

“It took time for me to get used to the feeling of it missing,” he said. “Now I will have to get used to it being back again.”

Next to him, Eldara offered a disinterested look to Wolfram’s ring. He averted his eyes to look at the blond’s tousled bed hair. It was attractive and he reached out to ruffle it, causing Wolfram to look at him questioningly. Eldara thought that he had never experienced love which would make a grown man cry - he knew Wolfram had. Many years ago he’d had a girl he had liked back at Military Academy. He had been…thirteen or fifteen? He could barely remember her name now. Wolfram’s pure, platonic love was something sacred. A beautiful but very painful love. It was a blessing in itself that he hadn’t experienced it.

Wolfram’s stomach growled, and Eldara chuckled, his thoughts returning to more material things. It was about time for dinner. He buttoned his shirt then left the bed in search of his jacket and trousers. Wolfram was already done when he put on the last piece of his garments and stood at the door waiting for him. 

“Your hair,” the duke said with a grin. He watched Wolfram walk over to the wardrobe and take a look at himself. The blond’s eyebrows rose and he started combing his hair with his fingers. “I almost want for von Christ to have seen this,” Eldara commented.

Wolfram chuckled. “I’m certain, in your mind, there shouldn’t be an ‘almost’ in that sentence. You like teasing him.”

“Trrremendouslyyy,” the duke said with a soft erotic purr.

The blond rolled his eyes. He decided that his hair looked as innocent as it could and moved away from the mirror. 

There was still about fifteen minutes until dinner was served, but Wolfram took note that Gunter and his mother were not yet in attendance. They were probably getting ready for tomorrow’s leave. Other people were already mingling about, sharing their daily experiences. Wolfram had noticed that recently Athara had always been present at meals. The birthday celebrations were, of course, a must. Though, the youngest von Ashira never missed a day after those. Wolfram often saw him talking with von Sarda. It was quite surprising, but it seemed that Athara liked his future brother-in-law immensely.

Cecilie and Gunter appeared right as the dishes started flowing into the dining room. Gunter noticed the signet ring immediately and congratulated Wolfram. The entire dinner was spent discussing Cecilie and Gunter’s return to Shin Makoku. Everyone hoped for good weather just as what the forecasts were promising.

After dinner Wolfram went to Gunter’s room where they discussed further details of his stay. Von Christ was reluctant to leave. His main concern was Wolfram and Eldara’s relationship, which had reached the heights of intimacy. He wished he could take Wolfram with him, away from Kardera. Wolfram knew what his thoughts were and he reassured Gunter that, if the weather was good, he would follow him in about a month, two at the latest. In truth, Wolfram wasn’t certain about his plans. He enjoyed Eldara’s company and was entertaining thoughts of prolonging his stay. 

Soon Cecilie entered the room. Surprisingly, she had finished packing. While Gunter was walking to and fro in the room, sorting his things, she caught a moment to talk to Wolfram without von Christ interfering.

“I’m glad I had this opportunity to see you,” she said while the two of them were sitting on the chaise lounge near the entrance to the room. “Who knows when the next time will be?”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Mother,” Wolfram said. “I’ll be home in a few weeks, a month at most.”

Cecilie shook her head laughing. “Don’t think that he’ll let go of you so easily. Besides, I don’t think you are in a hurry to return home either.”

Wolfram found that he couldn’t say anything to that. He gave her a guilty smile and nodded. She was more perceptive than Gunter.

“It’s fine, dear. Just enjoy the moment and take what you can. Eldara can be difficult, but he likes you and he will take good care of you.”

Feeling awkward, Wolfram blushed. It felt strange to be discussing this with his mother.

“Gwendal won’t like this,” he said after a pause. “Gunter is already giving me a hard time. He will report everything to Gwendal.”

Cecilie sighed. “And what of it? It’s not like Gwendal can tell you what to do, just like Gunter or I can’t. It’s your life and your decision.” She reached out to Wolfram’s face and pinched his cheek lightly. “And no matter what everyone says, Eldara is a good match for you. Both of you can learn a thing or two from each other.”

“Ugh, Mother,” Wolfram muttered, embarrassed, rubbing his cheek to soothe the sting.

\- - -

The next morning, they had breakfast earlier than usual. It was six in the morning and it was completely dark and cold behind the windows. Wolfram felt sleepy and nostalgic while sitting on the dining chair. Time had flown by so fast. It seemed that only yesterday he saw Gunter and his mother walking into the dining room to greet him, and yet a week had already passed and they were now leaving. Who knew when he would see them again? In general, everyone was high-spirited at the table – the latest news was that the winds were favorable and, further into the day, the sun was expected to show up. 

After a satisfying breakfast, Cecilie and Gunter left to finish packing the last of their belongings. More than half an hour later, they went to the yard and, in a large party of about twenty people, set off towards home. The party passed the gate and headed down the hill towards the town. 

There was a thin layer of snow covering the ground that reflected the light of torches carried by the guards riding on their horses. The air was becoming damp, which made it seem colder than it was. The hooves were trampling the snow turning it into a murky glop. 

Gunter and Cecilie were in a carriage together with Halea, Athara, and von Sarda. The duke was astride a horse, having decided to keep Wolfram company; the blond still didn’t trust himself in a rocking carriage. The blond was riding Rendar. He loved the calm mare and her soft gait. Yozak and Fajdal with a number of Wolfram’s and Eldara’s other guards, were riding close to the carriage. The duke’s guards were led, as usual, by Karela. 

Wolfram had only vague memories of the port. Mostly they were permeated with panic and intense cold. The booming sound of cannons, soldiers, and the beach strewn with injured and dead pirates’ bodies still indistinctly lingered in his memory. He didn’t even remember how he had been transported to the castle several kilometers away.

Moving slowly as they were, the party reached the harbor in about two hours. There were four ships in at the port. One of them was a trade ship, which was being unloaded. Men were carrying heavy trunks and sacks down the gangplanks and towards the warehouses nearby. Three other ships were waiting for Cecilie and Gunter. Two of them were warships, the third – a heavily loaded trade ship headed for Shin Makoku. Several guards could be seen patrolling the harbor while others were just standing by and leaning against the walls. At the sight of von Ashira, all of them straightened, saluting the passing men.

The sky was slowly brightening and Gunter with Cecilie and the few guards that had accompanied them from Shin Makoku boarded their ship without tarrying. Their luggage was carried after them and deposited into their respective cabins, the ropes were cut and, one by one, the ships set off. 

TBC


	29. Part 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Kyou Kara Maou! – It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I’m not making any money from writing it.  
> Warnings: yaoi (male x male), violence, swearing, angst, drama. Wolfram-centric, out of character, original character.  
> Summary: With Yuuri’s upcoming birthday, Wolfram makes his decision. Where will it lead him and what is to become of them? Should eventually be Yuuri x Wolfram.  
> A/N 1: Yuuri – 18 years old. Wolfram – 21. Eldara – 32. Halea – 20. Athara – 18.  
> A/N 2: Greta doesn’t exist.  
> A/N 3: European/American/Japanese standards all at once depending on the plot requirements.  
> A/N 4: A tendency to ignore the anime/manga and supplement the story with my own imagined facts.   
> A/N 5: Season III is not taken into consideration, except for the fact that Wolfram’s uncle exists.  
> A/N 6: The umlaut in Gunter’s name is a bother.

**Bloom**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com)

Part 29

Wolfram kept waving until the familiar figures on board merged with the breaking dawn and he wasn’t able to tell them apart. After that, he climbed back on Rendar and turned her around. The guards followed his example. Athara, Halea, and her fiancé climbed back into the carriage and the procession started moving towards home. The duke, though, motioned for them to stop and urged his horse towards one of the dock workers who were still unloading the goods from the moored ship. Wolfram had noticed Eldara eyeing the heavy trunks and sacks earlier; the duke obviously wanted to ascertain himself that everything was being done with his approval. Eldara talked to a man, then to a few other workers and lastly to one of the guards. Then, seemingly satisfied, he turned his horse around and sided with Wolfram. A two-hour journey for home awaited them.

“There aren’t many ships,” Wolfram noted.

They were passing by fishmongers and he was looking around, interested in the goods on the stalls and in barrels. Various smells were floating in the air, some of them forcing Wolfram to hold his breath.

Eldara gave him a long askance look. “They are on patrol,” he said finally.

Wolfram didn’t miss a suspecting glance that the duke threw towards Yozak. They were passing a stall with smoked fish and the blond pointed at tasty looking bundles of smoked mackerel.

“Let’s get this for lunch, Yozak.”

The captain turned his head to inspect the fish and nodded approvingly. “They should taste good, Sir.” He motioned for one of his men to buy the goods. The soldier urged his horse towards the stall.

Suppressing a sigh, Wolfram rolled his eyes at his unsuccessful attempt to send Yozak off on the short quest. Yozak was such a pest. The blond turned back to the duke.

“All Shin Makoku has is a few trade ships and a few hundred fishing boats,” he said. “That’s a common knowledge and one would think you wouldn’t need to worry about giving your navy’s routine out.”

Eldara offered him a smile that was anything but amused. “It’s not only Shin Makoku I’m worried about.”

Wolfram decided that Yozak being a spy through and through was also a common knowledge. 

“Well, yes,” the blond agreed. “Kardera did have a lot of enemies throughout history. And if anything, it’s we who should be worried about your navy,” he pointed out.

”Shin Makoku doesn’t have a navy because you don’t need one,” Eldara said. “If enemy comes, you throw fireballs and create storms.”

“But not having a navy also means we aren’t planning on usurping any other lands,” Wolfram pointed out.

“That’s only as long as your King decides to play a pacifist.”

“Yuuri is not _playing_ a pacifist!” Wolfram spat. “He really hates war. He’s always done everything to avoid bloodshed.”

Eldara watched him with a thoughtful look in his eyes. “That’s what everyone says,” he said finally. “But a Demon’s life is a long one and no one knows what will happen in the future.”

Wolfram stared at him angrily then turned away. “You really do hate us, Demons,” he muttered.

“I don’t, Wolfram,” Eldara denied. “Demons or Humans, all of us have the same nature. It’s just that Demons are harder to fend off.”

“To kill, you mean?” Wolfram growled.

Eldara sighed. “Why are we talking about this? We are not at war. We aren’t even considering starting a war. “And it’s such a fine morning,” he added with a motion at the brightening sky.

Wolfram glared at the sky but could already feel the anger leaving him, the tension in his shoulders bleeding away. Now he felt annoyed with himself. He had defended Yuuri. He had done it automatically and with such fervor that the duke had looked at him with surprise. When was it going to end?

The soldier whom Yozak had sent for fish returned with a bagful. The pleasant smell of smoked mackerel reached Eldara’s nostrils and his mouth started watering. He thought that it would be a good idea to buy more of it for everyone to share during lunch. He sent one of his guards back to the stalls to get a few different kinds. 

Wolfram was quietly riding next to the duke, seemingly still angry. The morose face didn’t fit to his playful hat with floppy ears. Eldara lowered his gaze to the sword at the blond’s side. King Shibuya was, undoubtedly, a strange man. The lack of experience and the young age must have also taken their toll on Shibuya’s judgment. If anything, he should have married Wolfram the first best chance he had. On the other hand, everyone had their likes and dislikes. All the better.

Before leaving for the harbor, the duke had ordered to heat the water in the baths. Once they arrived back in the castle, everyone went for a soak. It felt good to relax and warm up after the trip. When they left the baths, the lunch was already on the tables. The smoked fish was the main attraction even though it was not a rarity on the household’s menu.

Since today had been meant for farewells, the duke hadn’t planned any appointments. Everyone took their time enjoying the meal and each other’s company. 

After lunch, Wolfram left for his room to rest. Thoughtfully, Gunter had brought him a few books from Shin Makoku and the blond wanted to use the few hours of sunlight he still had. He had two books. One was called _The Wartime_ , the second – _The Story of Milkmaid Clarista_. Even though Wolfram knew he should read the first one that would help him prepare for his future exams in order to gain the title of an officer, today he was more interested in knowing what happened to Clarista. 

Wolfram pushed the armchair closer to the window, brushed the curtain aside and sat down to start reading. Four pages into the story, Wolfram took a mistrustful look at the book’s cover again. He was overtaken by a nagging suspicion that there was more to Clarista’s story than he had first presumed. Three more pages later he stumbled upon an orgy that included Clarista, a fat miller and someone named Billy Goat. The sensible thing to do was to throw the book into a fireplace. The problem was that he had no fireplace and, frankly, he could not resist reading further.

Wolfram was so engrossed into the milkmaid’s loose lifestyle on her father’s farm that he was caught off guard when a sudden knock on the door was heard. A small gasp escaped his lips. He hadn’t even noticed that it had become dimmer in the room, and that the sun was in its final stage of setting. He realized that he could barely see the letters now. Quickly closing the book, he lit a few candles with a flick of his wrist. He sat still trying to will his awkward erection away. He wasn’t even certain what made him react since he found the milkmaid’s story more disturbing than erotic.

When Wolfram went to answer the door, he wasn’t surprised to see the duke. Moving out of the doorway, the blond motioned towards the table where the usual carafe with water and a bowl of apples stood. While Eldara was walking towards the table, his eyes caught the sight of a book on the windowsill. Interested in where the blond’s tastes lay, he walked over to look at the cover. He grinned and took the book. He thought it was somewhat strange that Wolfram read this kind of literature when his preferences leaned towards men so clearly. Yet, real life and sexual fantasies was not the same thing. 

“I didn’t know you were a fan of Clarista,” he said, turning around. Wolfram appeared to be flustered and Eldara laughed. He waved the book in the air. “Have you read the part where she steals his savings and he can’t complain to anyone because his wife would find out he’s been cheating on her?”

“Have you read it?”

That was already more of a statement than a question but Eldara shook his head. “No, I haven’t. Halea told me all about it. A long time ago she and Athara found it amongst our father’s belongings. I imagine it had caused quite a few giggles.” He lowered the book onto the table next to the carafe. “It still seems to be pretty popular,” he said with a wink.

“It’s not mine,” Wolfram said, blushing lightly. “I think it belongs to Gunter. He must have accidentally switched one of those he had intended to give me with one from his precious collection.”

Eldara grinned. “Hmm… Accidentally, you say?” he drawled, putting the book back down on the windowsill.

Wolfram gave an uncertain shrug.

“Are you still upset over our conversation?” the duke asked when they sat down at the table. During lunch Wolfram had been quieter than usual and now he also seemed to be subdued.

Wolfram shook his head. “No, I’m not. I…” He shrugged. “I think I feel somehow nostalgic with Mother and Gunter gone.”

“Oh, I see.” Eldara reached out for the carafe with water. “Well, with von Christ gone, your life will be easier.”

Wolfram laughed softly. “So will be yours.”

Smiling, Eldara shrugged. He filled a glass, pushed it over to Wolfram and took another one for himself. “I do understand him, don’t think I don’t,” he told Wolfram. “He’s worried that I’m a bad influence on you, and I probably am.”

Wolfram tapped his fingers against the glass. “He’s right. You do influence me.” He raised his eyes to look at Eldara’s face. “But it’s a welcome influence. We think differently but there are many things I admire you for and many things I want to learn from you.”

Eldara’s face acquired an expression of uncertainty. “This sounds like…”

Wolfram laughed softly. He shook his head. “No, this is not a love confession. But… Would it be bad if it were?” he wondered.

The duke chuckled at the curious look in the emerald eyes. Wolfram didn’t even seem to realize how seductive and cunning he sounded. Or maybe he did. Sometimes Eldara couldn’t tell with the blond. He reached out for Wolfram’s face and brushed his fingers over the smooth cheek. 

“No, Wolfram, it wouldn’t,” he said, leaning in to press their mouths together.

It wasn’t comfortable to kiss while leaning forward in their chairs and they broke it off quickly. Eldara stood up, Wolfram followed his suit and they kissed again. Wolfram felt more relaxed than the previous times and the blond suspected that this indeed was due to Gunter’s absence. He wondered what von Christ would think if he knew that. 

“Mm?” the duke wondered when he felt Wolfram grinning against his lips.

The blond shook his head. “It’s nothing,” he muttered, leaning in again for yet another kiss. Wolfram’s arms wrapped around Eldara’s shoulders and stayed there until he had his fill of the duke’s mouth.

Feeling those arms slide down his back and slip under his jacket, Eldara’s lips settled on the side of the blond’s neck to pamper the sensitive area. Wolfram let out an appreciative hum and cocked his head sideways to give the other man a better access. The blond’s fingers started making their way through the buttons on the duke’s shirt and the older man felt himself being maneuvered backwards, to where the bed stood.

“Clarista seems to work wonders on you,” Eldara said, grinning against the blond’s neck. He cupped Wolfram through his trousers and gave a light squeeze to the already hard member.

“Yes, I don’t know why,” Wolfram admitted, ignoring the teasing. He closed his eyes as the older man continued to massage him through the fabric.

“In that case, I can share my collection of similar booklets with you,” Eldara said, turning them around and seating the blond on the bed. He immediately leaned in to steal a quick kiss.

Wolfram laughed against his lips. “Are you offering me your precious pornography stash?”

Eldara grinned at him. “Yes, I do. It’s not a big collection, though.”

“Oh my, what would Gunter say?” Wolfram said in a reproachful voice.

“I think he would ask to borrow it.”

Wolfram burst out laughing and flopped down onto the bed. Eldara followed him and stretched next to the blond sideways. Their eyes met and the amusement on Wolfram’s face turned into a look of lust. Their mouths locked again and hands tugged at the clothes impatiently.

Through the open fly in Wolfram’s trousers, the duke’s fingers slipped into his underwear and pulled him out. He stroked the younger man a few times then let go and continued freeing him from his clothes.

With each other’s help, they soon were completely naked on the bed. Parts of Wolfram’s skin were covered in goose bumps since it was a little chilly but, from the way the blond’s body was responding, the duke knew that wasn’t going to be a problem. He stroked the younger man while grazing and nipping at the skin around his neck and chest. Wolfram’s fingers were massaging his shoulders approvingly, while an occasional moan would leave his lips.

Eldara’s erection was digging into the blond’s thigh and he reached out to massage it. A few strokes drew out an appreciative hiss from Eldara’s mouth. Wolfram still couldn’t get used to the fact that it was him causing these needy gasps. Their hands kept bumping into each other and Eldara let go of the blond. He moved to his knees and made Wolfram kneel as well. He ran his palms along the younger male’s back, up to his shoulders, and then down again, to his waist. 

Eldara could tell that Wolfram wanted him to hurry up. Instead, he continued to caress the blond’s back, curious about whether he would take the initiative. Wolfram did – his palm wrapped around both of their erections and started stroking them. Encouraging, Eldara caressed his waist then his hands slid lower, to the globes of Wolfram’s buttocks. He squeezed lightly, eliciting a soft groan from the younger man. Wolfram loved that part of him being touched. The duke continued to knead the buttocks, drawing out more moans. Wolfram’s hand was working faster now, and Eldara could feel how slippery it was. The blond was getting close. Eldara covered Wolfram’s hand with his, stroked together for a few moments then removed it.

“Ah,” Wolfram mumbled in surprise when one of Eldara’s hands slipped in between his buttocks to brush over his anus. He shivered in pleasure when the finger stayed there to rub over it continuously.

“Do you want to try it?” Eldara asked, applying more pressure so his finger nearly slipped inside the younger man. He felt Wolfram shiver again. The blond’s eyes were closed while his hand was still moving over both of their erections inertially.

“Do you?” Wolfram asked, opening his eyes to give the duke a dazed look.

It took Eldara all of his restraint not to topple them over. All he wanted now was to press the younger male down into the bed and just have his way with the blond. By the way Wolfram’s pupils dilated and his face flushed, it was obvious that the blond had read it all on his face. And it was apparent he didn’t mind. Eldara’s finger slipped past the outer ring of muscles and inside Wolfram.

“I’d be lying if I said I don’t,” Eldara said, his index finger massaging the blond with in and out motions. In fact, he had been thinking about it non-stop for the past few days. His digit pressed against Wolfram’s prostate and the blond’s rhythm on their erections lost its consistency.

“I’m about to come,” Wolfram stuttered. The insistent finger rubbing against his prostate was sending sparks of lust up his spine. The blond’s hand continued stroking them but now the rhythm was fast, chaotic. “Ghm,” Wolfram grunted through clenched teeth when he felt the climax coming. “Mghh…”

Eldara watched him come. The blond had clamped down on his finger, but he continued to rub the spongy nub until Wolfram rode out his orgasm. Then he pulled his finger out and let the blond fold down onto the mattress.

A little out of breath, Wolfram raised his eyes to Eldara, who was stroking himself in slow, unhurried motions. The raging erection looked painful, the bulging veins on the shaft glistening.

“Didn’t you say that you wanted to…” not finishing, the blond trailed off. The duke’s lust-filled gaze met his. Embarrassed, Wolfram averted his eyes to stare at the pillow. “We can do it.”

“That’s so, but…” Dubious, Eldara gave a look at Wolfram’s nearly placid member nestling amongst the few blond curls. He did want to do it and part of him, probably the one he was holding in his palm, wished for Wolfram not to back down. Still, the other part of him didn’t want to rush things. Not when it seemed that for Wolfram, sex was some kind of a key to all the questions that he had accumulated during the stage of his frustrating and unrequited love. 

“We can probably try that next time,” the duke said finally. He continued to stroke himself and upped the pace.

“Why so? Your face says differently,” Wolfram pointed out, his eyes meeting Eldara’s challengingly. “Having some doubts?”

The duke chuckled softly, his voice a little breathless. “Oh, I’m having tons of doubts, but no more than you, I can assure you. This is not a contest,” he said more seriously. “You’ll also be much more sensitive now and it’s probably not a very good idea for your first time.”

“Let me tell you what’s not a very good idea,” Wolfram told him. “It’s for you to contradict yourself so much when your balls are about to become blue and fall off.”

Eldara laughed softly. He gave himself last few quick strokes and let go. “Alright, then.” It was not as if he was going to protest any further.

He leaned forward to grasp the sleeve of his jacket that had previously landed on the bed near the pillows. He pulled it over and opened the inner pocket to retrieve a small jar of ointment. At the sight of it, Wolfram got to his knees, scooted over to the bedside cabinet and opened the first drawer. 

“What is this?” Eldara asked curiously, when a red-faced Wolfram held out a shiny packet for him. He lowered the jar with ointment onto the sheets.

“A condom,” the blond muttered.

“Huh, is it?” the duke wondered, taking the smooth packet from the blond. He rubbed his fingers over it, testing. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

“I was told it can prevent…” Wolfram trailed off. Anything he was about to say sounded insulting in his head, and he just stared at the shiny packet in Eldara’s hands.

“Where did you get it?”

“Umm…” the blond muttered, embarrassed. He shifted closer to the other man and pointed at the tear-mark on the packet. “You open it here, take it out and roll it down your… Yes, now hold it by the tip. Make sure you have the slippery side outside.”

The duke gave him a searching look and Wolfram blushed again. “Yozak gave them to me. I’ve practiced a bit with a few of them.”

Eldara grinned at him. “It certainly seems so.” He did as instructed and started smoothing out the creases under the strange fabric. He could easily presume its purposes even though Wolfram had just trailed off like that. He was pretty certain that he didn’t carry anything since he chose his partners carefully, and Wolfram, obviously, hadn’t even had a chance to catch anything. Yet, it was better to humor the blond since he was already nervous enough.

Wolfram gave the duke a sheepish look when the older man’s gaze fell between his legs. The apprehensive eagerness had made him livelier than a few minutes ago, but still, for all of his tough talk, he looked pitiful. Not certain what he should do, Wolfram sat down. That brought the other man’s jutting erection to his eyelevel and he stared at it awkwardly. Seeing his predicament, Eldara moved in between the blond’s legs and pushed on his shoulders lightly to make him lie down. He took the jar and uncapped it. After scooping up the contents with his fingers, the duke rubbed them together to warm up the lubricant then pushed his hand in between Wolfram’s buttocks. He circled and rubbed around the entrance to let the blond get used to the feeling again then slipped in. Wolfram tensed at first, then, after several in and out motions, relaxed again.

“Oh,” Wolfram grunted, his body shivering and clamping down as the fingers brushed over his sensitized prostate. “Oh,” he repeated when Eldara continued to rub over the spongy nub. He blinked and his eyes left the duke’s face to stare at the ceiling. It felt both pleasant and disagreeable at the same time. He grunted again. Realizing the gasps echoing in the room were coming from him, the blond covered his mouth to stifle them.

“Let it out,” Eldara said, pushing at his arm. The noises the blond was making were delicious and he wanted to hear more of them.

Wolfram pushed back at the duke’s hand. “There are…ohmn…guards outside the door,” he said.

“So what? I doubt they think we are playing cards or reading poetry in here.”

Wolfram chuckled and turned his head to look at the older man. “You are quite shameless.”

“And you have too many complaints for a virgin.”

“Can I even be considered one?” Wolfram laughed. To his mind, they had done too much playing around for him to be still considered one. The rubbing inside him was becoming more and more pleasurable, and Wolfram sighed softly, his eyes leaving the duke’s face. 

“That question will soon lose all significance,” Eldara promised him.

The blond chuckled. His eyes kept staring at the ceiling then he closed them. If Eldara kept rubbing like that, he was going to come again. He already wanted to touch himself. Before he could say anything, Eldara pulled his fingers away. Then they were back again with more cool lubricant. This time the digits just pumped in and out a few times, circled around and slid out again.

“It would be best if you turned around,” Eldara said, trying to cap the jar. His fingers were slippery though, and it ended up flying at Wolfram’s stomach.

“Yowch!” Wolfram grunted, picking up the jar. “Why?” he asked, handing it back to Eldara.

“It will be a much more comfortable position than this,” the duke said, motioning at Wolfram with his head. “Ah, to hell with it!” Eldara grunted losing his patience with the jar. He reached out to leave it on the bedside cabinet, uncapped. When he turned back to Wolfram, he saw the younger male giving him a dubious look. “Have a bit more faith in me.”

Wolfram didn’t question anymore and turned around. 

“Lift your hips,” Eldara instructed. “Yes, like this. Now spread your legs. Lower your shoulders.” The back of Wolfram’s neck turned red, showing that the blond found the position immensely embarrassing. This pose, though, was really best for someone’s first time. Later, they would improvise.

The blond tensed when he felt Eldara’s hand settle on his thigh firmly. He was excited about this and the thought of having the man inside him was breathtaking. It was keeping him hard and on edge. Yet, there was also the anxiety of the unknown.

“It will probably feel uncomfortable at first,” Eldara warned him. “Try to relax and don’t hold your breath.”

Wolfram nodded wordlessly. He felt Eldara press against him. The heavy erection was much thicker than his fingers and, as soon as the blunt head slipped into him, Wolfram felt his body seize up, protesting the invasion. 

“Does it hurt?”

Wolfram shook his head to deny. It did not, it was just… He tried to relax and felt it slide deeper into him. It seemed like most of the resistance was gone now and he took a few deep breaths while Eldara continued to go deeper.

“It’s all in,” Eldara said when their bodies came flush.

The blond said nothing to that since he had no idea what to say. The fullness and stretch felt unnatural and uncomfortable. He could feel himself clenching around the shaft. He just stayed still, adjusting. Despite the discomfort, he didn’t want it out of him – the intimacy of the act felt erotic and he was painfully hard. 

“Try to relax,” Eldara told him, his right hand slipping past Wolfram’s waist to enclose his member. Wolfram tightened around him at the unexpected touch, his back arching lightly.

“Easy for you to say,” the blond muttered accusingly. 

Eldara chuckled and took a long breath, trying to calm himself down. He didn’t have much patience with Wolfram, who, even at this moment, wanted to stay in control. It was simply impossible. All Eldara wanted to do now was to keep going. The more Wolfram tried to stay in control, the longer it was going to take for him to adjust to the new experience. 

He stroked Wolfram until he saw the blond’s shoulders relax. The entrance became loose enough for him to start moving. As soon as he started, though, Wolfram clamped up again.

“Stop resisting,” Eldara muttered. “Just stop over thinking it.”

“I’m not!” Wolfram breathed out. Then he realized that he was and he grunted in annoyance. He willed himself to relax, and most of the discomfort disappeared at once. Eldara pulled out and pushed back in, making Wolfram inhale deeper.

The in and out motion inside him felt foreign. Despite that, the intimacy, the other man’s body heat, his hand on him, and the knowledge of what was being done to him was so arousing that Wolfram wondered why he hadn’t done this sooner. 

His breathing had turned harsh, the unnaturalness was still there but now it was being overwhelmed by the pleasure that was clouding his mind. He lowered his forehead onto the bed, his shoulders coming lower as well. Then he felt a light push of Eldara’s hand on his upper back, pressing him further down into the bedding. Wolfram submitted without much thought and let himself be maneuvered. The change in position brought quick results: the in and out motions inside him now started to spread warmth in his insides.

Wolfram had become much looser and Eldara could hear the younger man let out a small pleasurable gasp every time he drove into him. Wolfram wasn’t going to last long. He had not expected him to either. New to the experience as he was, it was no wonder. The resistance was completely gone, and when he thrust harder, Wolfram’s upper body pressed itself down into the bedding while the rest of his body rose up. Eldara didn’t think that Wolfram was aware of that. The blond’s fingers had fisted themselves into the sheets. His head was turned sideways, and it seemed that the only thing he was concentrated on was breathing.

The blond was still following the rhythm of the hand on his member, the undulating motions of his hips hypnotizing. Eldara watched himself disappear into and then appear again from the stretched anus. Wolfram then started coming without any warning. Suddenly tensing, his member pulsated and coated Eldara’s fingers with seed. Mindlessly, the blond rolled his hips a few more times then sighed loudly.

Gritting his teeth in concentration, Eldara waited for him to relax then pulled out carefully. Wolfram squirmed and once Eldara was out of him, he turned around to face him. The other man was rock-hard. He was taking the condom off. Supporting himself with his hand Wolfram rose a little and reached out for the bobbing rod with his right hand.

The duke watched him from under half-lidded eyes. There was a lot of lusty impatience in them and Wolfram started stroking faster. It didn’t seem quite enough and soon Wolfram found himself under Eldara again, the older man pressing him into the bedding. Still thrusting into the blond’s hand, the duke ravished his mouth. Wolfram’s hand on his shaft faltered and Eldara covered it with his own, setting the pace he wanted. Being close, he broke the kiss and turned his head to the side, panting. They were of about the same height, their cheeks almost touching, and Wolfram could hear the grunts and puffs turning more and more desperate, the guiding hand was now squeezing painfully, the motions jerky and fast. He then came, coating their hands and Wolfram’s chest with thick streamlets of seed.

Eldara freed the blond’s hand and rolled off him. He lay still for a few moments, enjoying the afterglow. Then he started searching the nightstand cabinet for tissues or napkins. Once he found some, he went to the carafe with water.

Sprawled, Wolfram lay on the bed, dazed by the experience. It had been completely different to what he had imagined. Sex appeared to be a quite messy affair. There was pleasure, of course, just as anticipated, but there was a lot of awkwardness too. Now, when the endorphins dissipated, his anus felt itchy and there was mild irritation too.

Wolfram gasped at the unexpected coldness that suddenly spread over his stomach.

“Are you alright?” Eldara asked him, continuing to clean the blond with a wet handkerchief. He chuckled when Wolfram gave him a sleepy nod. “Next time will be better,” he promised. “Always is.” Wolfram nodded again, and Eldara was struck by how young he looked. He could not help reaching out to stroke the blond hair even though he knew that Wolfram’s appearance was deceiving.

Before the blond could fall asleep, Eldara found another jar in the pockets of his trousers and brought it to bed.

“This should take away the sting,” he said, his fingers slipping in between Wolfram’s legs and up his butt. 

The feeling of them moving inside him, suddenly made Wolfram so embarrassed that he nearly kicked the duke in the face. The man probably sensed his discomfort since he removed his hand quickly. Curious, he watched the blond’s flushed face.

“Is there something wrong?”

Wolfram glared at him, his face becoming even redder. He then shifted sideways and groped around for the blankets. “Not as such,” he muttered angrily.

Eldara couldn’t prevent a chuckle that escaped his lips. “There’s no need to be so embarrassed.”

“Shut up.”

TBC


	30. Part 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Kyou Kara Maou! – It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I’m not making any money from writing it.  
> Warnings: yaoi (male x male), violence, swearing, angst, drama. Wolfram-centric, out of character, original character.  
> Summary: With Yuuri’s upcoming birthday, Wolfram makes his decision. Where will it lead him and what is to become of them? Should eventually be Yuuri x Wolfram.  
> A/N 1: Yuuri – 18 years old. Wolfram – 21. Eldara – 32. Halea – 20. Athara – 18.  
> A/N 2: Greta doesn’t exist.  
> A/N 3: European/American/Japanese standards all at once depending on the plot requirements.  
> A/N 4: A tendency to ignore the anime/manga and supplement the story with my own imagined facts.  
> A/N 5: Season III is not taken into consideration, except for the fact that Wolfram’s uncle exists.  
> A/N 6: The umlaut in Gunter’s name is a bother.

**Bloom**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by bishie82

Part 30

The duke pushed the documents aside and reached out for a cup of tea on the tray that a servant had just brought in. He took a teaspoon and added two cubes of sugar. He motioned for his advisor to help himself to another cup, but the man shook his head, refusing.

“I think that’s enough for today, Ronel,” Eldara told his advisor while he swirled his spoon in the cup. “I know you returned very late last night. Go home and get a good rest. We’ll continue tomorrow.”

The man nodded gratefully. “Thank You, Your Grace.”

When his advisor left, Eldara turned to look through the almost dark window. The candles weren’t lit and he could still see people moving about outside the castle. Ronel was not the only one tired. Urgent business was one thing, but last night with Wolfram had also added to this weariness. Sipping his tea, Eldara watched two guards gentling their horses in the plowed yard. He saw one of the horses raise its tail and a pile of steaming lumps landed on the snow. With a sigh, Eldara turned away and lowered his cup. At least they had successfully managed to avoid that last night.

The duke glanced at the clock on his desk. Von Luana would soon have his dinner and it would be courteous to keep him company. The doctor had assured them that the hip was healing but, certainly, the old man was not fit to travel. It was very likely that he would stay here for the rest of the winter. Eldara grimaced. That was fine with him, but the man was going to die of boredom. Yawning, the duke left his chair and went to the door.

Eldara found Wolfram in von Luana’s room, next to the man’s sickbed, playing chess. Despite a few pillows under the old man’s back to keep him at least a little upright, it was obvious that he was uncomfortable. There was, however, nothing anyone could do to alleviate his discomfort. He would grimace in pain every time he moved the pieces on the board.

Wolfram was sitting opposite von Luana, at the coffee table, and staring at the chessboard. When the duke entered, he lifted his head to acknowledge him and concentrated back on the board. There were quite a few black pieces in the wooden box on the other chair next to Wolfram, and the remaining amount of them on the chessboard indicated that the blond was in trouble.

“I haven’t played chess in a while,” Wolfram said when, after having greeted von Luana and asking about his health, Eldara pulled a third chair over to the coffee table and sat down to observe the battle.

Further into the game, Wolfram’s situation was becoming direr and direr until he was finally checkmated. The blond accepted the defeat with a sigh and a pout.

“How about a game, Your Grace?” von Luana suggested.

“I would love to,” Eldara agreed. “I will probably be a little bit tougher to beat than Wolfram, though,” he warned with a chuckle.

Von Luana grinned at him. “All the better.”

Eldara started arranging the pieces on the board. To decide which color would be assigned to whom, Wolfram hid a white and a black pieces behind his back and Eldara drew the black one. Wolfram returned the missing pieces back onto the board. 

Just as the duke had promised, he was really better at chess than Wolfram. He and von Luana were pretty evenly matched and only about an hour later the duke finally won.

“Were it not for your injury and medicine, you would have undoubtedly won,” he told von Luana.

The old man’s face acquired a pleased glow. Smiling inwardly, Wolfram watched the duke sweep the pieces back into the box. 

The three of them had dinner in von Luana’s room while the man was doing his best to entertain the duke and Wolfram with the stories from his youth. After the meal, with a promise to keep von Luana company tomorrow, the blond and Eldara left the man to rest.

“His sons are coming over tomorrow,” Eldara told Wolfram while the two of them were walking downstairs.

Wolfram nodded. “Ah, yes, he told me that. He’s looking forward to their visit. I think he’s quite bored here.”

“Well, who wouldn’t be in his place?” the duke agreed with him. “Were it summer, we could at least open a window or carry his bed to the garden.”

“He tried reading, but his eyes get tired quickly.”

“You seem to like listening to him,” Eldara said curiously; when he had asked Halea and Athara to visit their elderly guest more often, his siblings looked as if he had told them to go plow snow in the yard. 

Wolfram gave the duke an awkward smile. “Well… It’s not like I’m very busy either. Besides, I like his stories. And…”

“And?” Eldara prompted since Wolfram had just trailed off.

“Well, he reminds me a little of Gwendal,” the blond admitted which made the duke’s brow furrow in confusion. With cheeks tinted pink, Wolfram shook his head. “Not his personality but rather…his way of storytelling. Gwendal used to tell me stories from his old War Academy days and the battles he took part in.”

The duke nodded. “I see that you got some brother complex going on here,” he teased, opening the door to the lounge. It wasn’t late yet and Wolfram had just followed him unconsciously, thus he intended to spend the rest of the evening in the blond’s company.

“I don’t!” Wolfram denied, but not very convincingly since his cheeks turned even pinker.

Eldara chuckled. He motioned inside the dark room. “Could you?” He pushed the door open all the way when the candles flared up at Wolfram’s command. Eldara let the blond pass first and closed the door behind them.

It was obvious that Wolfram missed his brother. He wasn’t as homesick as during the first few weeks of his stay in Kardera, but it was only natural for him to miss Gwendal, who was as much a brother and as a father figure to him. 

“I must admit that I’m jealous of your bond with Sir von Voltaire,” Eldara told Wolfram, while sitting down on a sofa near a table with burning candles. “It reminds me too much of what I’ve been trying to establish between myself and Athara. I have never succeeded, though.”

At first, surprised by the duke’s honesty, Wolfram didn’t know what to say. He took a seat next to the man on the sofa. “Err…” Wolfram drawled. “I’m sure he’ll soon leave this rebellious stage. Um,” he added awkwardly. “It seems like recently he has stopped frequenting that brothel as well.”

“Yes,” Eldara agreed. “However, I think it’s got mostly to do with your influence on him, not mine.”

Wolfram gave him a confused look. “Err? My influence? But I never told him anything.”

Eldara chuckled. “You didn’t even have to. I think he felt like he was losing to you. He may not seem like it but he’s quite competitive. He…” Eldara shook his head not finishing. Then he rolled his eyes. “Or maybe he just got one of those tramps pregnant.”

“Umm…”

“I’d rather he’d caught some nasty disease instead.”

By the way the blond was staring at him now, Eldara realized that he shouldn’t have said this. He had uttered these words without considering von Bielefeld’s upbringing and background. He doubted if in Wolfram’s environment things like these had ever been discussed in the open; Wolfram appeared to be put off.

“Umm… I don’t really know how it goes in cases like these, but shouldn’t she have an abortion?” Wolfram asked finally, showing that he wasn’t as oblivious as Eldara had presumed.

“That’s so but some can hide the fact of their pregnancy until it’s too late.”

“What would you do in that case?” Wolfram asked. He was pretty certain that Athara wouldn’t have any say in that kind of situation. Not after disgracing his House like that.

“That would actually depend on the woman.”

What exactly would depend on her or what Eldara would do, Wolfram didn’t have a chance to find out because any further questions had effectively been quenched by the duke’s mouth pressing against his. A sudden wave of heat flashed through Wolfram’s body. Today it had been flashing through him every time he remembered what they did last night. He got hard twice while watching Eldara and von Luana play chess. He even started thinking that there must be something wrong with him. On the other hand, he realized that it was probably completely normal.

“Does it still hurt?” Eldara asked, his hand sliding down the blond’s back to grasp his thigh.

“No. Yes. A little. Not much,” Wolfram said incoherently between their kisses. He had somehow managed to find his way into the duke’s lap and was now straddling him. 

“Alright,” Eldara said, grinning against the blond’s mouth. It was amusing how quickly Wolfram got addicted to being touched. It was no wonder though. Normally, men of Wolfram’s age and standing already had years of experience in these matters, whereas Wolfram started his sexual explorations very recently. He was catching up.

“Someone might come in,” Wolfram grunted out between their kisses while the older man’s hands were working on his belt.

“Then they would be incredibly lucky to feast their eyes upon you,” Eldara muttered, his hand slipping inside the blond’s trousers. He closed his eyes at the feeling of Wolfram’s fingers in his hair. He wondered if he could make Wolfram use more force. Not everyone was comfortable with that though, and most people had a clear distinction between pain and pleasure during sex. That was the question for later experiments once he figured out how much he was able to push Wolfram.

“How can you even spout such nonsense with a straight face?” Wolfram wondered, letting go of Eldara’s head and wrapping his arms around his shoulders and nape. He felt the duke’s body shake and looked at his face to see him laugh.

“I suppose it comes with age,” the duke said, grinning at him.

Looking over the duke’s back, Wolfram gave a dazed look to the dark window further away. They were on the first floor and it came to him that the curtains weren’t closed and they could be seen, but his brain refused to care about that. He lowered his forehead onto Eldara’s shoulder and let out a shaky breath. His hips were already following the rhythm Eldara’s palm had set up. He moved his arms from the duke’s shoulders to take off his jacket. It was incredibly hot. He tossed the blue jacket next to them on the sofa and dove in for Eldara’s belt.

It took Wolfram a few frustrating moments to free the other man’s hard length from his trousers. He rubbed over the very tip to elicit a few fine tremors from Eldara’s body. He loved this feeling of power that he had over the other man. Wolfram licked his lips to wet them.

The door to the lounge opened with a loud thud and Wolfram froze, his wide eyes staring at Eldara’s face in panic. His back was turned to the door and he couldn’t see who had entered.

“I’m sorry, Your Grace, I thought I heard some noise.”

That was Karela Ine’s voice and Wolfram sat still in the duke’s lap, not even daring to move. The older man’s hand was on his nape as if preventing him from turning around. There was no way he would want to turn around anyway.

“Yes, now could you close the door, please?” Eldara said. “Thank you in advance.”

“Have a good night, Your Grace, Sir.”

The door closed with a soft thump and Wolfram let out the breath he had been holding in. Eldara’s palm slid off his nape and down to his back. His other hand palmed Wolfram again.

“I take it you’re not an exhibitionist,” he said after having discovered that the blond had softened considerably.

“Seems not,” Wolfram agreed, his shoulders relaxing somewhat. “Tell me, was Yozak with him?”

Eldara was tempted to lie but then nodded. “Yes, he was.” Wolfram groaned in misery and he patted the blond’s back soothingly. “I think he’s already gotten used to this. There’s no need to react so sensitively.” That was, on the other hand, a lie. He had been worried there for a moment since Gurrier had looked as if he would storm over to them and start throwing punches. He probably would have if he had seen Wolfram’s face. It was ridiculous to what extent people were protective of Wolfram.

Grinning, Eldara stroked the softened length. “You’re a national treasure, aren’t you?”

Wolfram gave him a searching look. “I gather he looked mad?” he concluded.

“Well… If looks could kill, I’d be dead twice and buried under the carpet,” Eldara said, pointing at the carpet covering the room with his free hand. “And you’d be locked up in a tower on a mountain on an uninhabited island, the key of which Gurrier would throw into a pit of lava.”

Wolfram glared at him. “Don’t make me sound like some hapless princess from a fairy tale. It’s his problem if he gets annoyed by…by…” Not finishing, Wolfram just grunted, irritated.

“You know, there’s a booklet called ‘A Princess’s Secret’. I think you should read it.”

“Mmm?” Wolfram hummed questioningly. His interest in the world was rapidly lessening due to the increasing pleasure in his lower body. “Is that one from your precious pornography stash?”

“Yes, it’s quite an interesting read. It’s about a princess who has been locked up in a tower for twenty years and ends up plagued by various desires.”

“Don’t you have anything about princes? Maybe knights at least?”

Eldara chuckled. “No, sorry, my collection isn’t as rich as to cater to everyone’s tastes.”

“Ohh…” Wolfram purred when Eldara’s thumb kept continuously flicking over the sensitive head. His senses were now concentrated on Eldara’s hand stroking his penis. He reached out for Eldara’s trousers to resume what he had started before Karela and Yozak barged in, but his and the duke’s hands kept thumping against each other. In the end, Eldara brushed the blond’s hand aside and wrapped his own around them both. He upped the pace.

“I’m almost…” Wolfram grunted out, feeling it coming. 

Eldara’s other hand left the blond’s thigh and checked the pocket of his jacket, instantly retrieving a handkerchief. Wolfram was practically riding his lap now, the blond’s hips following the motions of the hand on him. A few images of the blond riding him in bed flashed in the duke’s head and a wave of intense lust washed over him.

They came nearly at the same time, Wolfram spilling first, Eldara following him a few seconds later.

“Mmm…” Wolfram hummed appreciatively against Eldara’s shoulder when the older male cleaned them up with his handkerchief. “That was nice,” the blond concluded. He wiggled out of the duke’s lap and onto the sofa where he set on the task of getting his clothes back in order.

“Indeed it was,” Eldara agreed with him, tucking himself back into his trousers.

ooOoOoOoo

The whole von Ashira family, Wolfram, and Fredrick were having lunch in von Luana’s room. His two sons and one grandson came to visit him as arranged. The guest room that Eldara provided him was spacious, but it seemed to be stuffy with so many people around. They were eating at the table in the middle of the room while two servants waited on them. The eldest von Luana was in his bed with a bed tray in front of him.

The mood was elated, the guests sharing their experiences of the journey. Inconspicuously, Eldara cast a look at the sons. Ferdinand von Luana was a recent widower and, as far as Eldara was informed, was actively looking for a new wife. The duke didn’t think he would have a problem finding her: money, status, passable looks, the man had them all. The new wife, though, would also get two additional children from his previous marriage: a girl and a boy in their early teenage years. 

The eldest son, Markan von Luana, was in his forties already, the grey showing at his temples. Despite his older age, he was a very attractive man. He was tall and quite heavily built with a wide chest, strong shoulders and arms. His dark hair was nearly black and was cut short. The gray eyes that gave everyone a sense of strictness suddenly met Eldara’s and the duke offered him a smile. Markan smiled back at him, but Eldara could sense that the man was a little puzzled by his curiosity. What a shame.

Turning his head aside, Eldara noticed that he was not the only one enjoying the scenery – Wolfram’s curious eyes lingered on Markan as well. He and Wolfram seemed to share a similar taste in men. Sometimes, Wolfram could be very obvious in his inclinations. 

Markan’s son, Vandera von Luana, was of similar age as Wolfram and Athara. This was probably one of the reasons why Markan had brought him to see his grandfather. That, or since the young man was very lively while taking in everything around him with vibrant vigor, Eldara would assume that he probably just talked his father into making him travel together with them.

As soon as everyone had eaten lunch, Eldara had invited them for a ride in town. The sons were going to stay only for a few days and he wanted to show them around before they left. It was best that they started now, before it got dark.

They had dressed and were already walking towards the door when Karela appeared as if form nowhere, excused himself and started whispering into the duke’s ear. Wolfram saw Eldara’s face cloud. Once the captain finished talking, the duke straightened and cleared his throat.

“I’m afraid I can’t attend the outing that I myself have suggested; I have urgent business to attend to. I’m very sorry, but not to fret – I’m certain that Athara will be of utmost help.”

Athara gave his brother a look that was met with sternness. It was as if Eldara was asking him who else he should employ for the task – Wolfram was their guest. It would take Halea a minimum of an hour to get ready, and Karela was just a captain. Athara nodded. “I certainly will. I dare say I know best spots in town.”

“He’s telling the truth,” Eldara assured their guests. “There are places there that solely Athara knows of, which I’ve never stepped my foot in.”

Athara glared at the duke, but saw him wink. The younger sibling just ended up just rolling his eyes and sighing. In a few moments, Wolfram found himself staring at Karela’s and the duke’s backs that were rushing off down the corridor. He was left wondering what this was about. Soon, Yozak was gone too and, by the time they left the castle, they had been joined by Fajdal. Wolfram, doubted whether Yozak would manage to find out what was going on or not. He contemplated to simply ask the duke when they returned from the town.

The von Luanas spoke passable Shin Makoku’s tongue and Wolfram, more or less, could understand when they spoke to him. He’d had his interpreter with him at lunch but had refused his services for the rest of the day. There was also Athara or Fajdal to translate for him.

Athara was being talkative today as it was required of him. Wolfram could barely understand him, since he spoke in Karderian, but the blond’s general knowledge of the language allowed him to grasp that he wasn’t missing out on much: the weather, the townspeople, the trip itself that was what they were talking about.

The town wasn’t as lively as Wolfram had seen it last. Food preparations were over, most people stayed inside, the smoke coming out of the chimneys while they warmed themselves and prepared their meals. The animals were in their sheds, the roads finally free of mud and manure, and the frozen ground easily passable.

People in the streets greeted the noble group politely, their eyes lingering on the expensive coats and horses. Most of them were already familiar with von Bielefeld, or at least have heard about him staying in the castle. Wolfram’s and his suite’s winter hats were most memorable. The blond’s newly-acquired sword, which hung at his side, also attracted quite a lot of attention.

It took them about three hours to see the majority of town. They visited the temples, the school, most local shops and, finally, stopped at the winery. They stayed there for about an hour then, afraid that his distinguished guests would start getting drunk, Athara started to organize the trip back to the castle. 

When they left the winery after having purchased a few bottles of different brands, it was already darkening. Wolfram, who, despite Fajdal’s keen eyes, had two glasses to drink, was in a much better mood than he was before. He had even tried talking to the youngest von Luana. The attempt hadn’t brought any good results except for Vandera offering Wolfram a smile and a nod. What he had smiled about or what his nod had to do with Wolfram’s question of which brand of wine he liked best, was a mystery. Wolfram had been much more successful with the teenager’s father. They had struck up a conversation filled with aggressive infinitives and lost prepositions. Nonetheless, Wolfram still found out, through his inebriated conversation with the man that Markan indeed has a wife and two more daughters. And that he also loves dogs and horses. His passion, though, was hunting to which the blond wasn’t able to relate. They kept talking almost all the way back to the castle.

“My husband has a wife, Sir!” Vandera hissed softly at Wolfram while they were climbing off their horses.

Wolfram gave the teenager a confused look then turned to Athara, who had already passed his reins to one of the stable boys.

“Ermm… I think he wants to say that his father is married,” he interpreted quietly. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’ve been staring at Markan quite intently.”

“Ooh.” Wolfram felt his face heat up. He threw the reins to the nearest stable boy and slid off his mare. “That’s just because he looks so similar to Gwendal.”

“It’s not my business why you’re staring at him,” Athara told him softly. “You should, however, tactfully leak this information in next time you converse with them. Before any more misunderstandings occur.”

Wolfram nodded.

ooOoOoOoo

The younger von Luanas had left in the morning, after having stayed for three days. In the evening, after taking care of his daily work, Eldara invited Wolfram for a spar. They hadn’t spent much time together with von Luanas around and now wanted to catch up. After the good workout they went to the baths. On the way from the baths, the duke was deterred by his captain. Wolfram proceeded to Eldara’s chambers on his own.

It was the third time now that Wolfram was visiting the duke’s chambers. The first two times were brief and not very conscious and only now Wolfram could take a better look at the spacious rooms. There were two rooms altogether, both of them connected to each other by wide double doors. 

Upon entering the first room, people found themselves in a tastefully decorated living room. The clutter was kept to the minimum. It was a relaxing room with cream-colored, flowery tapestry. The room seemed to be light and sunny even on such a gloomy day as this. The light brown carpet only added to the feeling of comfort.

In the middle of the room there was a large table with three chairs. Farther in the room, at the window, stood a desk with two chairs at opposite ends. This desk seemed to be preferred to the big table in the middle since it wasn’t decorated with dried flowers, instead was covered with various papers and books. 

Interested, Wolfram came closer to read the titles. Most books were in Karderian languages, but there were also a few of the books which he could read: politics, strategy, a few maps, and history. Wolfram raised his head. There was a big library on the first floor but it seemed that the duke preferred keeping the books that he liked rereading in a bookcase at the wall near the heater. The von Ashira family photograph Wolfram had seen before was still on one of the shelves of the bookcase.

There were also two chaise lounges in the room. One was close to the table in the middle, the second was near the window, next to the desk. There were three soft-looking pillows on each it. This was probably where Eldara read his books.

A mirror and a wardrobe close to the door finished the ensemble. Curious, Wolfram opened it. It boasted of expensive coats, extravagant hats, sturdy boots, and a handful of brown military jackets. He had never seen Eldara wear a hat, though.

The next room was a sizeable bedroom with the four-poster bed as the main furniture. There was also a chaise longue that Wolfram had slept on after the uncanny visit to the brothel. Feeling a little uncomfortable, the blond moved closer to it to inspect the exclusive carpet underneath. The vomit stains he had left at the time had completely vanished.

The huge wardrobe, that was taking half of the left wall, contained all the wear Wolfram had expected to see: from the underwear and socks in the drawers to the jackets and shirts on the coat hangers. Curiosity got the best of him and he started browsing through the shirts. Most of them were well-made, some with delicate embroidery on their collars or sleeves, others yet free of any adornments.

“Care to try it on?”

Startled, Wolfram turned around. The duke, who had been watching him silently from the doorway, eyed the white shirt in the blond’s hands. Wolfram had chosen to closely inspect one of the shirts that Eldara had put on only once or twice since he found the brown and silvery beads on the collar somewhat too crammed for his taste. Obviously, Wolfram liked them.

“Erm…” Wolfram muttered uncomfortably. He took the coat hanger and started putting the shirt back on.

“If you like it, you can have it,” Eldara told him. “I don’t wear it anyway.”

Uncertain whether he was being teased or it was a serious preposition, Wolfram looked at the duke. It was both, he decided. A little pouting, Wolfram took the shirt off the hanger again. He went to the other side of the wardrobe with a large mirror hanged on the door.

Eldara watched him take off his jacket and shirt and put the new one on. Wolfram was more particular about clothes and his looks than most men he knew. The blond, though, had a good taste and knew how to dress himself.

“It suits you much better than it does me,” Eldara complimented him. Again, Wolfram gave him a dubious look and the duke chuckled. He walked over to the blond and slid his arms around his waist. Looking at their reflections in the mirror, he pulled the younger man’s back closer to himself, the shirt between them rumpling. “Keep it,” he repeated into the bond’s ear. Then Eldara raised his head to look at their reflection again – doubtlessly, he and Wolfram looked good together.

Wolfram nodded. “Thank you.” The gift felt both embarrassing and pleasant since he understood that Eldara simply wanted to indulge him. The blond turned around to face the older man. Eldara laughed softly and Wolfram realized that the duke understood his uncertainty.

Eldara’s hands slid in between them, to the blond’s shirt and started unbuttoning it. Once done, he smoothed his palm over the blond’s chest. Wolfram leaned in and their mouths met in a heated kiss. Wolfram’s fingers ruffled through Eldara’s hair then took a firmer grip on it when the kiss intensified.

The blond’s back bounced on the mattress when he was pushed down into the bed. Eldara’s hand cupped him between the legs, squeezing lightly, and Wolfram let out a short gasp. Eldara massaged him a few times, then set on undoing the blond’s belt. Wolfram, meanwhile, reached out for the older man’s jacket. Eldara tugged and the belt came loose, the duke now taking up the task of removing the blond’s trousers. Wolfram was hard already, the anticipation was most enticing. Once his boots and trousers were gone, the blond sat up to take his newly-acquired shirt off.

In a few moments, they were completely naked. The clothes piled on the floor. Wolfram was staring at Eldara with a hungry look and the duke could not resist the urge to ravish his mouth again. He thought that Wolfram might protest when he pressed him down into the bedding with his hands pinned at his sides. Wolfram didn’t. On the contrary, this seemed like a huge turn-on for him. Eldara had had a fair share of lovers and deemed Wolfram the type that loved to be coddled and indulged. The problem was that Wolfram didn’t quite realize that yet. He was prideful and wanted to be in control all the time, so for now he needed a man who would know how to take care of his needs inconspicuously or simply would be daring enough.

Doubtless, there would be many wishing and Wolfram would have indeed found someone to suit his needs had he not been growing up in such a closed environment. Nonetheless, it was beyond Eldara how Wolfram had fallen in love with a greenhorn who had not even the faintest idea what to do with the blond or how much fun it could be to have him. And it didn’t only pertain to sex – Wolfram was loyal to Shibuya, the loyalty stretching far beyond of him being Shibuya’s subject. Wolfram wasn’t much interested in politics, but, with time, he was going to be, and men like Wolfram were fearsome when they put their mind to something. Shibuya was a fool for letting him go. If he had played it right, the von Bielefeld House would have become his most important asset. Unless Shibuya had plans to marry Gwendal von Voltaire. In that case, he was highly underestimating Shibuya.

“Mm…” Wolfram purred when Eldara’s tongue flicked over the head of his penis. He instinctively reached out for the dark violet hair to prevent the duke from stopping the delightful activity. He was going to learn to pleasure another man like this as well but, for now, Wolfram wanted to enjoy the attention. He watched Eldara’s mouth working on him for some time. Eldara was slow, his teasing tongue licking here and there, sometimes sucking, sometimes stroking. The sight, undoubtedly, added to the blond’s pleasure, but it wasn’t comfortable to keep his head raised like this. Finally, Wolfram laid his head back onto the bedding and closed his eyes, letting the blissful sparks wash over him.

Several moments later, Eldara leaned away and moved closer to the bedside cabinet to get the lubricating ointment from one of the drawers. Meanwhile, Wolfram rolled sideways to fish for his trousers on the floor, the pocket of which contained a few condoms. His body high-strung with anticipation, the blond tossed the shiny packet between the duke’s parted knees. 

Eldara uncapped the jar to scoop some lubricant. Warming it between his fingers, he looked at the blond. Currently, there was no display of previous time’s uncertainty. The only thing Wolfram appeared to be uncertain about now was why he wanted this so much. Wolfram gave him a questioning look and Eldara realized that he had been grinning. 

Without answering that questioning gaze, Eldara slipped his hand in between the blond’s slightly spread thighs. He probed at the entrance then gently eased a finger in. He massaged a little, smearing the inner walls with the lubricant then pulled out, scooped out more of the mass and pushed two fingers in. He pumped in a few times, scissored and just rolled his fingers about playfully, trying to make the blond looser. Wolfram was rock-hard. In fact, Eldara had not expected the blond to be so eager about anal sex. It had seemed that Wolfram hadn’t been too enthusiastic or left with very good impressions of it during his first time. 

The duke pulled his fingers out and wiped them on one of the napkins that he had readied beforehand. He took the shiny packet and retrieved the condom. Under the blond’s watchful eyes, he put it on.

“Should I turn around?” Wolfram asked.

“I think we can try it like this,” Eldara said, reaching out for one of the pillows. He instructed the blond to lift his hips and pushed it underneath him. With his legs drooping at his sides and his pelvis up, Wolfram was giving Eldara a look telling him that he found this position no less awkward. 

Eldara moved in between his legs, lowered himself over the blond while supporting his weight with his left hand. With his other, he positioned himself at Wolfram’s entrance. He started pushing and the head popped in easily. Momentarily, the muscles around him tensed and then relaxed again, and he slid in all the way in without meeting any resistance.

Wolfram tried to keep the disbelief off his face. This time, the other man breaching him had nearly made him come. The movement inside him still felt somewhat awkward, but the light stretch that he could feel was now arousing instead of discomforting. Eldara started pulling out, and Wolfram’s back arched lightly.

“I wonder if I can make you come without even touching you,” Eldara muttered, watching his reactions. The blond gave him a blank look, not understanding what he was talking about.

The duke drove in slowly then pulled out again, causing a low, soft hum rise from Wolfram’s throat. He pushed back in, even slower this time. He did this a few times while Wolfram was watching him with half-lidded eyes. The slow pace was, obviously, not to his liking. The blond would have tried to stroke himself but knew it would lead to him coming at once.

“Are you planning on going like this till tomorrow morning?” Wolfram grunted out finally.

“And is it bad if I do?”

Wolfram chuckled. “I don’t think you have that kind of stamina.”

Eldara’s eyebrows rose. “Care to try?”

“Gods, no. I don’t want either of us ending up crippled.”

The duke chuckled. He shifted his weight and lowered his head to kiss the blond’s unruly mouth. He snapped his hips forward, making the blond grunt into his mouth. He broke the kiss and upped the pace. In a moment, he felt Wolfram’s legs wrap around his lower back, to give him better access. No doubt, the man was a quick learner.

Wolfram was nearly there, his heartbeat loud in his ears, air leaving his lungs in short, quick gasps. The pleasure and heat in his lower body skyrocketed with every thrust. Finally, he felt it coming, his fingers digging into Eldara’s shoulders, his body seizing.

Panting, Eldara watched the younger male riding out his orgasm. He would have relished over the fact that he had seemingly made Wolfram reach the heights of ecstasy, but he badly wanted to come as well. The blond was impossibly tight now, every muscle in his body strung. Fruitlessly, his hips undulated against Wolfram’s backside until he felt the blond starting to relax. Bit by bit, he pulled out then pushed back in again until he was able to move freely. He came fast, squeezing the blond’s right thigh painfully with his palm.

TBC


	31. Part 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Kyou Kara Maou! – It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I’m not making any money from writing it.  
> Warnings: yaoi (male x male), violence, swearing, angst, drama. Wolfram-centric, out of character, original character.  
> Summary: With Yuuri’s upcoming birthday, Wolfram makes his decision. Where will it lead him and what is to become of them? Should eventually be Yuuri x Wolfram.  
> A/N 1: Yuuri – 18 years old. Wolfram – 21. Eldara – 32. Halea – 20. Athara – 18.  
> A/N 2: Greta doesn’t exist.  
> A/N 3: European/American/Japanese standards all at once depending on the plot requirements.  
> A/N 4: A tendency to ignore the anime/manga and supplement the story with my own imagined facts.  
> A/N 5: Season III is not taken into consideration, except for the fact that Wolfram’s uncle exists.  
> A/N 6: The umlaut in Gunter’s name is a bother.

**Bloom**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by bishie82

Part 31

Wolfram’s eyes blinked open. He was in Eldara’s bed, completely naked. Yawning, Wolfram watched the duke opening the wardrobe at the other side of the bedroom. Then the blond turned to the window but the heavy curtains were blocking the view. He could instinctively tell, however, that it was morning already even though a candle was burning on the nightstand.

“Ah, I’m sorry, I didn’t want to wake you up,” Eldara said when he noticed Wolfram watching him. He had retrieved a bathrobe and was putting it on. 

“What time is it?” Wolfram asked, a yawn appearing on his face again.

The duke motioned at the grandfather’s clock at the door. “Six.”

“Ugh, still early.”

While watching the duke dress, Wolfram rolled to his side to settle under the duvet more comfortably. Before Eldara had put on the bathrobe, he had caught sight of some scratch marks on the duke’s shoulders. Had he done that? Well, of course, who else. Feeling somewhat sheepish, Wolfram rubbed at his nose. The pleasure must have been really intense for them not to notice. Well, it certainly had been.

He liked Eldara, quite a lot in fact. The other man knew that as well. He could probably fall in love with the duke. At least it did make much more sense to be in love with Eldara than with Yuuri. Yuuri wasn’t even interested in him, or any other man for that matter. 

Could he finally try and build something for himself? Be a little selfish? He was already being, though. He didn’t feel for Eldara what he had felt for Yuuri. There was no blinding love or insensible obsession that he remembered. But he had been young and stupid when he had fallen in love with Yuuri. Certainly, Eldara would say that he was still young and stupid. Sometimes, it was probably good to have an older lover. He could appreciate the experience and consideration.

“Are you regretting it?” Eldara asked when he noticed the blond’s brooding gaze linger on him for quite a while.

“No, not at all,” Wolfram said, shaking his head, realizing that his contemplative silence must have been misunderstood. “I was thinking about something entirely different. Do you, though?”

Eldara chuckled and it seemed that he was going to shrug the question off, but then his face acquired a more serious expression. “A little,” he said. “I still think that a partner around your age would be better for you.”

Laughing, Wolfram rolled on his back. It was exactly the opposite of what he had been thinking. “No, it wouldn’t be. I can only imagine how awkward I’d have felt.” He looked at the duke. “You probably feel a little guilty, as if you’re taking advantage of me. Don’t, I was the one who seduced you.” It sounded strange coming from his mouth and Wolfram chuckled.

Eldara sat down on the edge of the bed. “That doesn’t make it any better,” he said, grinning at the blond. “I’m supposed to know better than that.”

Wolfram sat up, the duvet pooling up around his waist, letting older man enjoy the sight of his pink nipples. He reached out and wrapped his arms around the duke’s shoulders. “Ten-year difference between Demons is not even considered a difference,” he said, leaning in to give the other man a soft peck on his lips.

Affected by the blond’s warmth and scent, Eldara was quickly losing interest in the conversation. He shoved the invasive duvet aside, and pushed Wolfram down into the bedding. The blond grinned up at him, his bright emerald eyes full of mischief. Wolfram was beautiful – just as he had told Gunter – an asset to any bed. Wolfram would also make a very pleasant consolation prize if his plans went awry.

ooOoOoOoo

“So what about that pornography that you’ve promised me so graciously?”

Eldara raised his head from the bulletin that he’d been reading. Wolfram was grinning at him from the sofa. The blond was holding a cup of tea that a servant had just brought in. He blew on the tea to cool it.

“Feeling neglected?”

“No, just curious.”

“Hmm…” Eldara lowered the bulletin to the table. He returned the blond’s grin. “Let’s see… If you find it in fifteen minutes, you get a prize.”

That piqued Wolfram’s interest. “What prize?”

“We’ll get around to it once you find the stash.”

Wolfram set to search for the booklets at once. Eldara had hardly ever seen the blond so motivated before. Chuckling, the duke sipped his tea and returned to reading the bulletin. For the next ten minutes, Wolfram was busy checking all imaginable and unimaginable places he could think of. He became even faster when time started running out.

From his chair, grinning, Eldara watched the younger male walk to and fro. The blond was being so enthusiastic. He had been quite hypocritical when he told von Bielefeld that he would do much better with a lover his age. In fact, the duke always went for older men than himself. Wolfram had no idea that he was an exception.

“Found them!” Wolfram declared victoriously nearly at the last minute. He was standing on a chair in the bedroom, and Eldara couldn’t see him from the living room. The blond lifted a bundle of booklets off the top of the wardrobe. Dust rose into the air and he waved under his nose. Did Eldara specially tell the maid not to touch this particular spot?

Wolfram took the booklets to the desk in the living room and stacked them in front of Eldara. “My prize?”

The duke eyed the books then leaned back in his char. “I will let you choose.”

The blond’s nose scrunched up in reproach. “That’s just lazy.”

“Guilty as charged,” Eldara agreed. “And yet, is there anything you would want?”

Thinking, Wolfram leafed through the pages of the top book in the pile. His hand faltered over a picture of a naked man and a woman about to engage in an intercourse. The image was very detailed, but it was mostly concentrated on the woman and her genitals. Wolfram turned to the other page where now the same woman and the man were permanently stuck in the middle of the act.

The blond closed the booklet and looked at Eldara. “It’s not exactly a prize. It’s more like a request,” he said, pushing the pile of books aside. “A request for you to answer a question.”

“Oh?”

“What was it about on the day when the von Luanas arrived that made you back out the last minute?”

The duke chuckled. “If this is your request then you’d better come up with something else.”

“Why? You can’t answer that or is there just nothing to answer?”

“The latter. I wanted Athara to be the hero of the day. He seemed to have liked that.”

Wolfram nodded. He had suspected as much. While Yozak was still doing his best to try and find out the reason why the duke had cancelled his trip that day, Wolfram had given it more thought and made his own conclusions. He simply had more insight into Eldara and Athara’s relationship. The calculated gesture had appeased Athara and he seemed to have completely regained his jovial self. Even if Athara realized that it had been just a trick, he could still appreciate the gesture.

“I was accused of flirting with Markan von Luana,” Wolfram said suddenly. “His son was quite livid.” When the words were already out of his mouth, Wolfram realized that he didn’t even know why he was telling this to the duke. He had resolved the matter and it had been forgotten.

The duke laughed softly. “Oh, right. Athara told me about that. A funny child, Vandera.” Eldara, however, realized that if Wolfram had felt insulted or irked by the brat, the misunderstanding might have ended with much more than just a laugh. Men of Wolfram’s standing were not normally known for their patience with disrespectful kids. The duke himself had little patience in similar matters. He would have probably insulted or even struck the insolent brat. What was his business who he flirted with? It was a good thing that Wolfram was sensible in this regard.

Wolfram shrugged. He guessed that Markan was having an affair – which was a not so secret matter in his family – and this had resulted in the son lashing out. The lover was probably a man too. On the other hand, there was also the possibility that the son was just oversensitive in general. In fact, Wolfram didn’t really care. He had just been interested in the duke’s reaction. 

“Any other requests?” Eldara asked.

Wolfram shook his head. There wasn’t anything he wanted in particular. He had everything he could have while under the duke’s care.

“How about a blowjob, then?” Eldara offered. “Isn’t too shabby for a prize, is it?”

Wolfram was already familiar with the crude term. He stared at Eldara for a few moments. “Why are you looking at me as if you think I would refuse?” Wolfram asked when he couldn’t exactly understand the other man’s facial expression.

Grinning, Eldara shook his head. “No, not refuse. I was thinking that first you would say something about this being overly tacky.”

“It certainly is,” Wolfram agreed. “That doesn’t mean I would refuse, though.” 

Amused, the duke pulled Wolfram closer to share a short kiss with him. He liked the way the blond was thinking.

ooOoOoOoo

“I would like to see Wolfram, but I thought to talk to you first about whether it’s a good idea or not.”

Eldara held out a glass of wine for Reikia and motioned for him to help himself to the snacks. They were in the duke’s study and were sitting opposite each other. Eldara was in his usual place behind the heavy desk. The tray with food and drinks was on the table. 

“I was actually surprised that you left for home as soon as the celebration was over,” Eldara told the man. “You seemed to be really taken with him.”

With a nod, Reikia von Estram helped himself to a sandwich with tuna. “I thought to give him some time to think it over.”

“I see.”

“Do you think he might have changed his mind?” he asked, but without much hope in his voice.

“I doubt it,” Eldara said. He knew for a fact that Wolfram had already forgotten all about von Estram, but didn’t want to voice his thoughts. He had been on good terms with Reikia for a long time and liked the man enough to not intentionally disappoint him so much. Neither did he want to stand in between the two. Frankly, Eldara considered that it wasn’t his business who Wolfram wanted to sleep with. 

Reikia nodded then sipped his wine. He lowered the glass onto the table and leaned back into his chair. “Are you saying that because you know he doesn’t fancy me or is it because you are after him as well?”

“Both,” the duke said flatly.

“I see.”

Eldara shrugged. He poured himself a glass. “You can still see him, though,” he said. “I’m not going to get in your way.”

Von Estram gave the duke a look. “Don’t insult me.”

Eldara rolled his eyes. Everything was fair in love and war, and it was not as if he could forbid Wolfram from meeting and talking to people. Neither did he want to. Von Estram, though, was right, of course, there were times when one had no other choice but to step down.

“Does von Voltaire know?” Reikia asked, curious.

“He will, if he doesn’t yet.”

Thinking, Reikia played with the snow-white lacing of the doily underneath his wineglass. “What will you do when he finds out?”

“That depends on his reaction,” Eldara told him.

“You do want him to find out,” Reikia realized, after watching the duke’s face.

Eldara grinned at him. “I certainly do.” He sipped his drink, imagining von Voltaire’s face when he was told. He wished he could be there and see it. Then again, no – knowing von Voltaire, disclosure like this might result in a few broken bones.

“So what are you planning? If I may ask,” Reikia added bitterly. “Will you let Wolfram go back to Shin Makoku?”

“I haven’t had my fill yet,” the duke answered, watching the tiny bubbles rise from the bottom of von Estram’s glass. 

Reikia scowled, but that was an answer to the question that he had asked. “And what about Wolfram? What does he think of this?”

Eldara emptied his glass and pushed it sideways, to his left. “Let’s just say that he shares the same sentiment and will be happy with whatever excuse I’ll come up with to keep him here for longer.”

“Right,” Reikia said, saluting him with his glass jokingly, “one would never accuse you of modesty.”

With a disagreeing huff Eldara said, “I just stated a simple fact. He will stay. It’s all new to him and he wants to experience and learn it all.”

Realizing the implications beneath those words, Reikia frowned again. “If he doesn’t leave this week, he’ll have to stay here during the entire winter.”

The duke nodded. “That’s the plan.”

Von Estram rolled his eyes. “Yes, you can always conveniently explain to von Voltaire that it wouldn’t do to have your ships hit by storms or stuck on ice.”

Eldara nodded again. He watched Reikia for a few moments then sighed. “Listen, Wolfram… He…”

“It’s fine,” von Estram said. “I don’t want your pity.”

“It’s not really that, but…”

“I know,” von Estram said, reaching out for the bottle with wine. He understood it all. He was just curious about Eldara’s current choice. As far as he knew, Eldara normally hunted for older men. Married, divorced, bachelors, Eldara didn’t care as long as they were discreet and provided him with a good time. It was not that the duke was known for sleeping around. It was just that, one would rarely see him in the company of younger men.

“Where is Wolfram right now?”

“Hmm… I think he’s sparring with his men in the hall. Want me to ask for him?”

Von Estram pursed his lips thoughtfully. Did he? What was the use? He shook his head. “No.”

\- - - 

Eldara could see that Reikia was unhappy about the outcome of his visit and was hesitant to leave. He was slowly buttoning his coat, his lips pressed together, sometimes moving as if he wanted to say something. Von Estram had obviously expected to see and talk to Wolfram, and, even if he knew he had no chance, he felt as if leaving now would leave things half-way finished. The duke knew von Estram didn’t like doing things half-way.

“Baron.”

Surprised by Wolfram’s voice, both of them turned around.

“Wolfram…. Your Highness,” Reikia added with a bow of his head at the displeasure on the blond’s face. It seemed that the agreement to call each other by names had disappeared just as Wolfram’s interest in him.

“I didn’t know we have been graced by Sir’s visit,” Wolfram said, turning his head to the duke, a note of accusation noticeable in his voice.

Eldara gave him a blinding smile. “I was about to ask you if you wanted to go for a small ride in the park with us.”

Both Wolfram and von Estram gave the duke uncertain looks. Wolfram knew that this was an obvious lie. Von Estram was already wearing his coat and was fully dressed and ready to depart while Eldara was only in his jacket. Since Wolfram was curious what the two men had been talking about, he nodded and, with a promise to meet them in the yard, went to his room to change.

The weather was cool, but good for a ride. There wasn’t a lot of snow and the few on the ground crunched at being trampled under the hooves. The three men rode side by side, Reikia in the middle. Wolfram suspected that this arrangement happened not without Eldara’s courtesy. There was something on Reikia’s mind, but he didn’t talk, and Wolfram was glad about it. He didn’t want things to get complicated.

Soon they drove their horses forward and then started galloping through the park. After an hour’s exercise, everyone’s mood became better. It was a little awkward in the baths, Wolfram feeling the need to cover himself, even though von Estram was doing his best not to stare.

There was still one hour left till dinner, but riding in the fresh air made the men hungry and soon a tray with snacks, tea, and coffee reached the duke’s chambers. Comfortably, they sat at the table, eating, not saying a word until their stomachs were finally full.

“I actually arrived to see whether I have at least a little chance or not,” von Estram told Wolfram unexpectedly while they were having tea. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Blushing lightly, Wolfram glanced at the duke, who wore a neutral expression on his face. “Umm… I’m flattered but, Sir, I don’t feel the same way.” He glanced at the duke again. “I’m also perfectly content with my current partner.”

The atmosphere turned even more awkward.

“Ah, yes, just how I was informed,” von Estram said, his voice full of bitterness and disappointment even though he tried to control his emotions.

Wolfram started to feel annoyed – it wasn’t his fault that he wasn’t attracted to this man. The situation was unpleasant. This was probably how Yuuri must have felt all the time. The realization made Wolfram cringe and his mood dropped even lower.

The duke cleared his throat. “Will you be staying for dinner?” he asked Reikia. “Ardonas is preparing quite a feast. It would be a pity to miss it.”

Wolfram was giving Eldara a reproachful look for the invitation. Staying for dinner meant that the man was also going to stay for the night. He, however, didn’t voice his displeasure.

At first, it seemed that Reikia was about to say something rude, but then he took hold of himself. “Is he still the master chef? How old is he now?”

“I think he’s about sixty. He’s as agile as ever,” Eldara said, pushing the tray with the sandwiches closer to Reikia. “Did I mention that I have the eldest von Luana staying over? He’s broken his hip. I’m certain that your visit would be a welcome distraction from his misfortune.” 

“Oh, of course,” Reikia agreed. He pushed the tray with sandwiches away from himself, having not touched anything. “How did the accident occur?”

“He slipped,” Eldara said without elaborating. He rose from the chair. “I’ll instruct the servants to lay the table in his room.”

Left alone, Wolfram and Reikia were engulfed by heavy silence. Wolfram started counting the sugar cubes in the sugar bowl. Von Estram started making himself one more cup of tea. He asked if Wolfram wanted some as well but the blond refused.

“Shorter hair suits him better, doesn’t it?” Reikia muttered, spooning up a sugar cube from under Wolfram’s watchful eyes.

“Errm? Yes?” Wolfram agreed carefully.

“Makes him look more…” Reikia trailed off. The confused and wary look on the blond’s face warned him not to pursue this topic any further. He hadn’t really meant anything underhanded, but Wolfram was already trying to read all the possible meanings from his words.

The door opened to let the duke back into the room. He was instantly aware of the tense atmosphere. “Hmm…”

“We’ve been talking about your new haircut,” Reikia supplied him helpfully.

“Oh, this,” Eldara brushed over his hair. “This is Wolfram’s courtesy. I do like it, in fact.”

“Mm?”

“We’ve been sparring,” Eldara explained to Reikia while getting back into his seat at the table. “He went a bit wild with his fire element.”

Von Estram gave a wide-eyed look to Wolfram. “Oh.”

“No more wild than you with yours,” Wolfram grunted defensively.

\- - - 

“Are you upset that I invited Reikia for dinner?” Eldara asked while taking his jacket off. They were in Eldara’s chambers, and Wolfram was already in bed, staring at the duke with his emerald eyes. The blond had been quiet during dinner, avoiding conversations, even barely listening to von Luana’s stories from his youth. 

“A bit,” Wolfram admitted. “He annoys me.”

Silently, Eldara hung the jacket into the wardrobe. He took his time picking his pajamas, since he wanted to consider his words before responding.

“It doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t have,” Wolfram continued. “He’s been your friend for a long time, and I’ll be staying here only for a few months. I would have done the same if I were you.”

With pajamas in his hand, the duke walked to the bed. “You would make a very considerate husband.”

Wolfram rolled his eyes. “You’re probably the only one who thinks that.” 

The blond watched the other man dress in his pajama then slip into the bed. Wolfram wondered if he had told a lie to Eldara just now. His situation was completely different to Eldara and Reikia’s, of course, but he hadn’t accepted Yuuri’s attempts to maintain their friendship. While he had simply wanted to run away from all the pain and those fruitless feelings, Yuuri had been against him leaving the castle. Neither Yuuri nor the others had wanted to let go of him while his thoughts and feelings were so chaotic. Only Gwendal had supported his wish to cut the ties off so abruptly.

Wolfram seemed to be distraught. Curled up on the mattress, consciously or not, he was sending all the signals that he wanted to be comforted. With an inward roll of his eyes, the duke wrapped his arm around the younger man’s shoulders.

“What’s the matter?”

Wolfram shifted in his embrace then sighed. He lifted his face to look at the duke’s then, realizing that looking at Eldara’s face made it even more embarrassing, lowered his head again.

“Why can’t I forget him?” the blond both complained and demanded.

“Are you talking about His Majesty Yuuri Shibuya?”

“It’s been months since I saw him last. I don’t understand,” Wolfram said helplessly.

Eldara sighed. “I probably do.”

Wolfram raised his eyes to stare at the duke, but Eldara shook his head without explaining. Wolfram liked and needed attention. He was quite selfish as well. The duke guessed that the main reason why Wolfram wasn’t able to forget Shibuya was that he was used to getting everything he wanted and this time he had failed. There was a great chance that the blond was confusing his challenge obsession with love. Most likely, though, it was a mix of both and that was why the feeling was so strong. On the other hand, the duke knew he shouldn’t even try to generalize – love was never rational.

ooOoOoOoo

In the end, Reikia von Estram stayed for a few days. Wolfram interacted with him only as much as common courtesy required. It was up to the duke to provide entertainment to his friend. It was a good thing that Reikia got along with his sister’s fiancé as well. Fredrick had appeared to share quite a few similar hobbies to Reikia’s.

There was a knock on the door of Eldara’s study. Right after telling the person to enter, he raised his eyes from the document he was reading. It was Karela.

“Yes, Captain?”

“Your Grace, a letter from Lord von Voltaire has arrived.”

The corners of Eldara’s lips turned up. “Oh, already? Splendid.” He motioned for Karela to come closer and reached out for the supposed letter. His captain, however, did not move. The duke raised an eyebrow.

“There’s something attached to it, Your Grace.”

The duke lowered his hand. “Attached? To the letter? Do you mean a parcel?”

“Yes, Your Grace,” Karela nodded, trying not to laugh. “Someone named Conrart Weller.”

The grin on Eldara’s face widened. “In person?”

“Yes, Your Grace. In a very realistic person at that.”

“Well, send him in, then.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

TBC


	32. Part 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Kyou Kara Maou! – It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I’m not making any money from writing it.  
> Warnings: yaoi (male x male), violence, swearing, angst, drama. Wolfram-centric, out of character, original character.  
> Summary: With Yuuri’s upcoming birthday, Wolfram makes his decision. Where will it lead him and what is to become of them? Should eventually be Yuuri x Wolfram.  
> A/N 1: Yuuri – 18 years old. Wolfram – 21. Eldara – 32. Halea – 20. Athara – 18.  
> A/N 2: Greta doesn’t exist.  
> A/N 3: European/American/Japanese standards all at once depending on the plot requirements.  
> A/N 4: A tendency to ignore the anime/manga and supplement the story with my own imagined facts.   
> A/N 5: Season III is not taken into consideration, except for the fact that Wolfram’s uncle exists.  
> A/N 6: The umlaut in Gunter’s name is a bother.

**Bloom**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by bishie82

Part 32

The duke was watching the door, waiting for Conrart Weller to enter. It was unbelievable that the man had managed to catch a ship at this time of the year. He could think of only one captain who would dare to brave the sea like this. Certain measures had to be taken to make sure Sharp Ronny remembered who held his leash.

In a few minutes, followed by Karela, a man wearing the colors of Shin Makoku’s united army entered the study. The duke couldn’t help grinning. It was indeed Conrart Weller.

“Your Grace,” Weller greeted, bowing.

“Sir Weller,” the duke answered with a nod. He could see that the man could not help staring at his currently much shorter hair. It seemed that everyone found it unusual. He motioned for Weller to come closer to his desk.

“Excuse me for this unannounced visit, Your Grace,” Conrart apologized. “I wanted to send a message beforehand, but the sea…”

Eldara nodded. “I’m surprised you’ve reached us intact, Sir Weller. Is there an urgent matter for you to have been in such a hurry?”

Weller hesitated for a moment before answering then smiled. “Not as such, Your Grace. Oh, yes,” he said as if remembering something. “His Highness Gwendal von Voltaire sends his regards.” He started patting down his pockets and finally produced a letter sealed with a wax seal. Bowing lightly, he held out the letter. “Your Grace.”

Curious, Eldara took it. “Thank you. I’m always interested in Lord von Voltaire’s regards,” he said, grinning. He broke the stamp and started reading.

Several moments later, the duke closed the letter then looked up at Conrart Weller. He wasn’t certain whether he was more amused by the letter or by the sudden arrival of Wolfram’s half-brother. Just to make sure he hadn’t skipped anything, Eldara opened the letter again and reread von Voltaire’s note. There were the usual official greetings and salutations, but the duke was most interested in the last part of the message which said,

_It has come to my attention that there are rumors of Your Grace and my dear brother, Wolfram von Bielefeld, having an improper relationship. I request to do everything in Your Grace’s power to cease such a baseless rumor. I express my utmost thanks in advance. It would also be in everyone’s best interests if there were no such misunderstandings in the future._

“Improper relationship,” the duke repeated with satisfaction. “Misunderstanding.” Grinning, he skipped the next paragraph and stopped on the bottom ones:

_I humbly ask for Your Grace’s forgiveness for not informing about Conrart Weller’s arrival in advance. His sudden wish to see our dear brother has taken me by surprise, but, seeing how there might not be any other chance for him to reach Kardera but in spring, I gave him permission to depart._   
_With best wishes and salutations I leave both of my dear brothers in Your Grace’s care._

_Gwendal von Voltaire_   
_The Supreme Commander of Allied Forces_

Smiling, the duke folded the letter. This time von Voltaire had skipped out on at least three titles that he carried: The Supreme General to Shin Makoku’s Army, The Royal Military Advisor, and both The Lord of the Voltaire Land and House. He must have been in a hurry. Eldara looked at Weller standing in front of him, waiting for some kind of a sign or affirmation. The man was of mixed blood, which used to be considered a disgrace in Shin Makoku. He had a gentle face and warm eyes, but the duke knew they were deceiving. Conrart Weller was an experienced soldier, one of the best of Shin Makoku’s swordsmen. He was indeed death itself on the battlefield. And now he had been sent by von Voltaire to watch over Wolfram.

The duke chuckled. He lowered the letter onto the desk. “I guess you would like to see your brother.”

Conrart nodded. “Yes, Your Grace. I’d be grateful.”

Eldara turned to the guard at the door. “Karela, could you ask von Bielefeld to come here? Tell him his brother w-”

“Ah, Your Grace,” Conrart interrupted him. “Could I make a request?”

“Yes?”

“Could we not tell him I’m here? I’d like to surprise him.”

The duke nodded. “Alright.” In fact, he was no less interested in Wolfram’s reaction to the arrival of his half-Human brother. There was something peculiar about their relationship. He turned to the captain, who was standing at the door. “Karela?” 

The captain gave the duke a reproachful look. 

“It’s fine, go and get him,” Eldara told him. “I don’t think von Voltaire would stoop as low as to send his own brother to assassinate me,” he added in Razgadian jokingly. Karela’s face acquired a severely disturbed expression, and the duke realized that he had made a mistake.

“He just might,” Conrart said in one of Karderian dialects. “Depends on how much Your Grace has angered him.”

Turning to him, the duke chuckled. “Hopefully, his anger hasn’t reached that stage yet.” Weller’s face told Eldara that he was wrong and he chuckled again. Weller appeared to be quite as easily read as Wolfram.

“I didn’t know you are fluent in Razgadian,” the duke said when Karela left. “Do you have any relatives here? Maybe friends?”

“Yes, Your Grace, I have a few acquaintances who speak it.”

Eldara nodded. “Gurrier, is it?”

Conrart suppressed his frown. “Your Grace is well-informed.”

“Hm. Well, yes, I must admit that I took some interest in Gurrier’s personal and professional life,” Eldara confessed with a soft smile. “I, however, did that with only best intentions.”

Conrart nodded lightly. He had always felt uncomfortable around people like the duke but it was the first time he had found himself rushing head first into things. _‘That scheming son of a bitch’_ – that was what Gwendal had called von Ashira. Before coming here, Conrart had prepared to meet a stubborn and intractable nobleman. Von Ashira, though, appeared to be much more than that. He was hard to stomach with all of his subtleties and insinuations. That soft pretentious smile on his face… It seemed like if you pour a slop-pail of accusations and charges onto him, he would still walk away unscathed, with that grin of his gleaming from afar.

Both men turned when there was a knock on the door. Wolfram noticed his brother as soon as he entered the study. Surprised, he stopped with his hand on the doorknob. After successfully scooping his surprised expression, he fully entered the room. He then, not noticing Karela behind him, closed the door behind him against the captain’s perplexed face. 

“Hello,” Wolfram said, advancing further into the room. “It’s…been a long time. Nice to see you.” The blond was suddenly struck by that familiar, soft smile on his brother’s face and the warmth in his hazel eyes. “Um…” Uncertain and discouraged by Conrart’s silence, he stopped a few steps away from his brother.

Conrart was astonished – during all those talks about how Wolfram was unsafe in von Ashira’s clutches, no one had mentioned how much Wolfram had changed. He had turned into a fine man. He was taller, his body had filled out, his previously lanky limbs now were much more muscular and proportional to the rest of his body. Even his somewhat shorter hair completed the new picture.

“Err, yes, likewise,” Conrart said finally with a nod.

Wolfram had expected that Conrart might come to visit him but he had thought it would happen in a few months, in spring specifically. Such a quick arrival threw him off balance. He had thought a little about what he would say to Conrart when they met, but now his brain didn’t seem to remember anything.

Seeing how the brothers just stood quietly, Eldara motioned at the chairs in front of his desk. The awkward tension between the brothers was nearly tangible. The duke took the letter off his table and leaned forward.

“Von Voltaire sends his regards,” he said, passing Wolfram the letter after they had sat down. With satisfaction, he noted how wide Weller’s eyes became.

It was silent while Wolfram was reading the letter. Conrart was watching him apprehensively. He knew what the letter entailed and he had never expected the duke to pass it to Wolfram. 

“Well,” Wolfram said awkwardly after he had finished reading the letter, “it seems like he has received all the detailed information.” With a glance at his brother, he folded the letter. His cheeks turned pink. “I will deal with this,” he said. He saw the duke’s eyebrows rise sarcastically.

“Don’t worry about it,” Eldara said, extending his arm to take the letter.

The three of them knew that Wolfram didn’t have much chance of “dealing” with Gwendal. If anything, Wolfram was going to be the one “dealt” with. Wolfram’s cheeks became even redder. He glanced at Conrart again – his brother had come here just before the sea started freezing over. He was going to stay here until spring. Wolfram wasn’t able to tell whether he was glad or upset about this arrangement.

Conrart was in some kind of stupor. Seeing that neither of the two was bothered by the letter, at least not in the way he had expected them to be, he realized that it was just as Gunter had said. Stunned, Conrart raised his eyes to stare at the duke. Was this man Wolfram’s…partner? Lover? He had not wanted to believe Gunter, thought that he had exaggerated a great deal. Wolfram had always attracted all types of perverts and busybodies but this was the worst. 

“I’ll let you catch up,” Eldara said. He stood up and went for the door. 

Wolfram felt a pang of panic shoot up his spine but requesting him to stay would have been ridiculous. “Ahh… Thank you,” Wolfram said, not meaning it. He was apprehensive since he was at a loss as to what say or even how to start a conversation with Conrart.

For the next several seconds ringing silence enveloped the study. Then, both brothers shifted awkwardly and cleared their throats but, still, nothing came out.

“Errm…” Wolfram hummed quietly. “So what’s new at home?”

“Oh,” Conrart remembered. He started patting his chest pockets. He opened the one on the left and took out two envelopes. He held them out for Wolfram.

The blond took them and read the names on the top of them. One was from Gwendal, another from Yuuri. Wolfram looked at Conrart. “Mind if I…?”

“No, no, please, go ahead and read them.”

Gwendal’s letter was quite different than the one he sent to the duke. There was not a word about any rumors or reprimands for their relationship. Absolutely nothing, just a line, warning him to be skeptical and wary of everything von Ashira said or would say to him. The sentence that Wolfram reread a few times was about Gwendal saying he was proud of him finally taking a step forward in his and Conrart’s relationship. Gwendal did realize that Conrart might have been too hasty to jump into the first best ship and head for Kardera, but it was because Conrart was afraid that if he didn’t use this opportunity, it might never appear again. Wolfram realized that too. It was exactly because of this reason that it felt so awkward. He also felt somewhat guilty since Conrart had probably come here with much bigger expectations than to just sit in this sensitive and unbearable atmosphere.

Yuuri’s letter was permeated with confusion and regret. Recently, all of them were. The careful, considerate lines hoped that Wolfram really liked his present and that everything was going well for him. He was glad that Wolfram had decided to make up with Conrart and wished they would become as close as he and Gwendal were.

Wolfram folded the letter and pushed it back into the envelope. “How is Mother doing?”

“She’s great. She’s getting ready for another trip of hers.”

“Isn’t it cold already?” Wolfram wondered. He sighed at the look that his brother gave him. Certainly, cold wasn’t going to bother her as long as the other party kept her warm. “Who is it this time?”

Conrart just waved off helplessly. “Some baron from Big Cimaron.” Wolfram was shuffling through the envelopes as if they were cards, and Conrart resigned himself to the inevitable. “She told me to tell you that she wishes you all the best with your beloved.”

Wolfram cleared his throat awkwardly. “Thanks, I suppose.” He put the letters down. This was certainly not the topic he wanted to pursue with Conrart. “Which room did you settle in?” he asked.

“Oh,” Conrart said, brightening, “it’s…” he trailed off not certain how to describe.

Wolfram chuckled. “You’ll just have to show me.”

The older man nodded. “If I don’t get lost on my way.”

“How many of you have arrived?”

“Just me and two more men.”

They left the study and turned towards the guest rooms that Wolfram knew were usually given to temporarily residing people. They met Yozak and Karela heading the opposite way, probably to the duke’s study on some kind of business. At the sight of Conrart, Yozak stopped in surprise. He smiled brightly, but, at the same time, gave Karela an awkward look.

“I didn’t know you had plans visiting Kardera,” Yozak said when they approached each other. “When did you get here?”

Wolfram guessed that any other time Yozak would have been much more enthusiastic, maybe would have hugged Conrart since normally he was more a touchy-feely kind of person.

“I just acted on the spur of the moment and here I am,” Conrart said. He looked at Karela at Yozak’s side.

“Ah,” Yozak stirred, “this is Karela Ine, the captain of the duke’s guards.” He motioned at Conrart. “That’s my old friend and von Bielefeld’s brother, Conrart Weller.”

“Yes, we’ve met recently,” Karela said.

Wolfram didn’t know what relationship exactly Yozak and Conrart shared but this spelled trouble. Not wishing to be a part of this, he excused himself and, saying that there would be another opportunity to see the room, disappeared from the corridor as fast as he could.

\- - -

After lunch, the duke invited everyone for an outing to the town. He warned them in advance that he would not be able to join their company since an urgent business had come up. He, however, wished for them to enjoy the trip and promised to compensate his absence in other ways.

Conrart watched Wolfram, whose disappointed eyes followed the duke’s back until it disappeared in the corridor. Weller was glad about this chance to spend some time in Wolfram’s company without the duke. Another one who was glad about this arrangement was Reikia. Conrart would have been either amused or annoyed by the immediate grin that had spread over von Estram’s face after the duke’s announcement if he was aware of Reikia’s intentions. 

The day was cold but sunny and many joined the trip just to loosen up. The men were quickly saddling their horses. The sword fastened at his brother’s side drew Conrart’s attention. It was not the time to ask Wolfram about it, but there was probably never going to be the time to start this kind of a conversation.

“Umm…” Weller started uncertainly. “I was told that you didn’t like the sword.”

Wolfram gave him a surprised look. “Hm? Who told you that? I like it. It’s a good sword. I thought I specifically told Gunter to express my thanks to you?”

“Ah, that. Well, yes, he did but…”

“What I was disgruntled about was His Majesty’s gift, not your pick,” Wolfram explained offhandedly. “I like the sword.”

Conrart grimaced. “His Majesty was so excited about it. He really wanted you to like it.”

“Yes, of course, that’s why he told you to get something I would like.”

Conrart shook his head. “Swords and war go against His Majesty’s principles. Yet he sent you one because he really wanted to please you. He didn’t deserve such a curt reply.”

Wolfram was quiet for a few moments, thinking. He had been angry about the gift. Yet, Conrart was probably right. The sword had been Yuuri’s attempt to reconcile. For once Yuuri gave something that he knew would really be appreciated instead of forcing his pacific beliefs. 

“Wolfram, His Majesty…”

“Let’s not talk about him,” Wolfram said, urging his horse and turning away. He knew what Conrart was trying to do and it felt rather awkward. It also made him feel guilty.

Conrart’s eyes left the sight of the shiny scabbard and just stared blankly at his brother’s back.

“You should try and stay friends with him.”

“I can’t,” Wolfram said softly. “It seems I’m not the type to stay friends with people who reject me. It pains me too much. I would like him to disappear from my sight, but, since this is impossible, I’ll remove myself from his.”

“It’s unwise,” Conrart said softly. “You’re one of the heirs to the noble families of Shin Makoku.”

“Ah, yes, Eldara would call me apolitical again.”

Conrart blanched at the familiarity with which his brother addressed the duke. He still couldn’t accept the fact of the two sharing a bed. He still hoped that this was some sort of a misinterpretation.

“I understand. I understand it all, Conrart,” Wolfram was saying, “but… I just want some distance.”

“His Majesty is afraid of this distance,” Weller protested. “He doesn’t want to lose a friend. Neither do you, in fact.”

Wolfram shook his head. “It’s too late already.” He urged his horse away from his brother so as to stop this meaningless conversation.

They set out in a trot. Halea was declared the guide of their large group and she immediately announced that their main attraction was going to be the temple of Odule and children home. Inconspicuously, everyone checked their purses. 

Despite everyone had departed from the castle with expectant mood, it was mostly silent. Only the talks from the carriage could be heard – Halea had taken two of her maids with her. This time, Fredrick had left her side and joined the other men.

Wolfram found himself getting bored quickly. Just a few days ago he had taken the same route. Since it seemed that he had completely recovered, he urged his horse forward, to the front of their group.

“I announce the race to the temple of Odule started,” he shouted loudly for everyone to hear. “Those who lose, will pay one peace of gold to the winner. No elements allowed.”

Men in the party met each other’s eyes uncertainly. Grinning, Athara sided to Wolfram and cupped his hands in front of his mouth, repeating the blond’s challenge in Karderian.

“Hyah! Hyah!” Yozak shouted suddenly, urging his horse. It sprung forward, the snow spilling from under the hooves.

“C’mon! Hyah! Hyah!” Reikia shouted, trying to catch up with other men who suddenly burst after the captain. Reikia couldn’t exactly remember where the temple was but that didn’t bother him in the slightest.

Ten horsemen were approaching the town at full gallop. They flew past the first houses and into the main street, shouting for people to get out of their way. Yozak was at the front of the group, Wolfram not far behind him with two of the duke’s men breathing down his back. They were nearing the temple quickly, Rendar’s competitive spirit flaring up, Wolfram quickly gaining ground. 

A dog ran out in front of Yozak and he urged his horse to jump, which it did. While landing, though, it slipped on the ice-covered puddle. The horse lurched and Yozak suddenly faced the dilemma of either jumping off or holding for all that’s worth. 

The horse didn’t manage to right itself up but instead of crashing into a nearby fence, the horse and Yozak rose into the air. The whoosh of the wind could be heard while they were suspended above the ground. Men, who had stopped their horses after seeing Yozak’s trouble, urged their horses forward again.

“Captain! Captain! Captain! Onwards! Captain!”

The town started ringing with the chant while Yozak soared through the air effortlessly on his panicking horse.

“Captain! Captain! Captain!” joined the duke’s men laughing at the sight of Gurrier flying on a horse, overtaking the other racers.

“Yes, Captain! Yes, he won!” someone shouted when Yozak nearly flew into the one of the temple’s walls.

Laughter filled the air, the rest of the group catching up. Wolfram had to raise his hands to cease the guffaws. “Now, now,” he said, still short of breath. The matter was even more complicated by the irresistible urge to join in the laughter. “Gurrier is disqualified. I did not permit the elements.”

“But I didn’t use it!” Yozak exclaimed. “It’s not my fault!” 

Wolfram rolled his head up to stare at Yozak, who was still floating above their heads. “Enough, Morgan,” the blond ordered, bursting out in laughter, “get him down.” Still chuckling, he turned to the men. “Alright, let’s vote.” He waited for Athara to translate then raised his hand. “Who votes for Gurrier?” 

Yozak was proclaimed victorious unanimously. A bout of clapping and cheers arose, to which Gurrier bowed theatrically. The joyful hubbub diminished considerably when everyone was reminded that they owed Yozak one piece of gold. It was a big amount of money that Wolfram had unwittingly announced before starting the race. Now, watching the gold exchange hands, he felt uncomfortable. The men were still laughing, the mood good, but the sum was big and the race hadn’t exactly been fair and later this might cause a few discontent murmurs.

The problem, however, was solved nearly as soon as it arose. When the carriage with Halea and her maids caught up, she saw gold exchange hands and asked what was going on. Athara rode up to the window and quickly filled her in with the details. Halea quickly caught on with the problem and her eyes sparkled. She climbed out of the carriage.

“Congratulations, sir,” she said, smiling. “You were certainly lucky today.”

“Thank You, Lady von Ashira,” Yozak said, bowing. His face shone with ecstasy while he was pouring the gold into his bag.

“Not everyone is as lucky as you, sir, though,” Halea continued. She saw the captain give her a suspicious look, his grin fading. She nodded. “I’m certain that such a gallant and generous man as yourself will not mind sharing some of your luck with those who need it most.”

Yozak thought that he was neither gallant nor generous but it was best to keep that to himself. He already knew what Halea was walking about. “Of course, milady,” he said, bowing respectfully. Silently, he weighed the bag with coins then Wolfram kicked his leg. Yozak forced a smile. “I’ll be glad to share my luck.”

Suppressed laughter echoed around him while Conrart patted him on his back. Wolfram watched Halea climb back into the carriage. She had certainly picked up a trick or two from her big brother. This way, the situation had been defused and, at the same time, everyone had already donated the money for the children home just as Halea had planned. The amount had clearly exceeded her expectations, though.

While looking around the town, Athara told the guests its history and pointed out the key buildings and attractions. Amused, Wolfram noticed that Athara had tactfully left out his favorite place.

The children home wasn’t as run down as the party had expected it to be. Wolfram had already seen it during the autumn festival and knew that it was because Halea took care of it personally. He wondered what was going to become of it when she moved to von Sarda’s home. Eldara had neither time nor wish to deal with similar matters. Athara… Wolfram imagined him in Halea’s place with great difficulty. 

“His Majesty has built a children’s home in Taured,” Conrart said softly while they were looking around in the yard, waiting for Yozak and Halea to return from the meeting with the home’s head. The windows were swarmed with children’s faces. It was not every day that so many moneybags appeared. Conrart guessed that most of them earnestly prayed and hoped that now one or two of them would be adopted.

“Oh, yes,” Wolfram said, waving back at a little girl who was enthusiastically waving through the window at their group. “He had been talking about this idea of his just before I left.”

Conrart nodded. “It’s opened its doors just a few weeks ago. Not a moment too soon.”

“Yes,” Wolfram agreed, “it’s probably even colder in Shin Makoku.”

“I think His Majesty has decided to stay in Shin Makoku permanently,” Conrart said softly. “He hasn’t left for His world for half a year now.”

“Oh?” Wolfram gave him a surprised look. Yuuri had told him once that he wanted to go to university. Had he changed his mind? Normally, Yuuri appeared and disappeared within intervals of a few months. “That’s good, isn’t it?” he said uncertainly.

“I think His Majesty is waiting for you to return,” Conrart said. “He probably wants to apologize, to settle it somehow.” 

Wolfram shook his head. “There’s nothing to apologize for. It can’t be settled. I… I really don’t think I can interact with him as if nothing has ever happened.” Wolfram pursed his lips in distaste. “I just can’t stand that foolish me who…” He shook his head again, not finishing.

“But…”

The blond motioned for his brother to be quiet. “Enough. It’s pointless to talk about it.”

“That’s not so. His Majesty… He…” 

Conrart was suddenly taken aback by the anger in Wolfram’s emerald eyes.

“It’s over!” Wolfram hissed at him. “There’s nothing to fix and nothing to talk about! Stop bringing it up! Do you even imagine how long it took me to… Shit!” he spat, enraged and urged on his horse sideways, away from Conrart.

The older man grimaced at the display. He knew it wasn’t his business, but Wolfram was making a mistake by trying to cut all the connections with Shibuya. 

Everyone turned to the door which opened to reveal Halea, Yozak and a few other people. They stopped at the top of the stairs. 

“This is Drovan Evaen, the head of this establishment,” Halea introduced the lanky, big-eyed man standing next to her. “He wanted to personally thank you all.”

“Hello, gentlemen,” the head said, smiling. “Just as milady said, I want to express our utmost gratitude on behalf of the children and personnel. Thank you for your generosity. May the Gods be with you,” he finished, bowing.

TBC


	33. Part 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Kyou Kara Maou! – It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I’m not making any money from writing it.  
> Warnings: yaoi (male x male), violence, swearing, angst, drama. Wolfram-centric, out of character, original character.  
> Summary: With Yuuri’s upcoming birthday, Wolfram makes his decision. Where will it lead him and what is to become of them? Should eventually be Yuuri x Wolfram.  
> A/N 1: Yuuri – 18 years old. Wolfram – 21. Eldara – 32. Halea – 20. Athara – 18.  
> A/N 2: Greta doesn’t exist.  
> A/N 3: European/American/Japanese standards all at once depending on the plot requirements.  
> A/N 4: A tendency to ignore the anime/manga and supplement the story with my own imagined facts.   
> A/N 5: Season III is not taken into consideration, except for the fact that Wolfram’s uncle exists.  
> A/N 6: The umlaut in Gunter’s name is a bother.

**Bloom**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by bishie82

Part 33

The sky was darkening and it was becoming windy. There were hardly any townspeople on the streets now. They were curious about the large party of nobles, but preferred to stare at them through the windows and from the safety of their houses. The moods in the party were still high. The men were talking loudly and laughing, drawing attention to themselves.

Wolfram sided to Yozak. “Do you think it would be alright if I suggested making a short stop at a tavern?” he asked the captain.

“Alright? Alright?” Yozak grunted, incredulous. “They’d love you for that till the day the world ended. Which pub?”

“Ugh, I’m not sure,” Wolfram muttered. “I’m more knowledgeable about brothels, it seems.” He spurred his horse on and sided with Halea’s carriage. After a short consultation, it was decided to visit the tavern that Eldara frequented.

When Yozak announced the news, the whole party cheered excitedly. The moods had been high, but now the enthusiasm was pouring in waves.

Athara grinned at Wolfram, and the blond realized the unvoiced innuendo – he did know how to please men. Normally, Wolfram would have snapped, and actually was bothered by the fact that he hadn’t. The simple truth, however, was that he was just having a too good time to be ruffled by a light-hearted teasing. 

Having expected something elegant from a place a duke frequented, Wolfram was surprised at the sight of a rather shabby building on the outskirts of the town. The duke’s men seemed to be familiar with the tavern and, wasting no time, left the horses to the two stable boys who had run out of the building to greet the newcomers.

The inside of the tavern was similar to its outside. Worn blotchy tables and benches were arranged haphazardly in the wide hall. The smell of ale and fried onions hung heavily to the soot-covered walls. Nonetheless, the men poured into the tavern as if it were an oasis in the middle of a desert.

Holding Halea’s hand while she was gathering her skirts into her other hand, Wolfram helped her to reach the tavern and step over the threshold. Meanwhile, Fredrick was taking care of her maids. Wolfram inspected the clientele inside the building. It was still early in the evening, but there were six men sitting at the tables. Two at one table, three at another and one was sitting at the counter, talking to a man who was presumably the owner of this shabby establishment.

Wolfram helped Halea to a relatively clean table where she sat down carefully, making sure not to get her coat and dress dirty. 

“I’m not certain this is a suitable place for a lady,” Wolfram said, summing up his impressions.

Halea laughed. “And what tavern would be?” Before Wolfram could answer, though, she shook her head. “Don’t worry, I’ve seen worse things.”

“Hmm…” Wolfram drawled, uncertainly. While he was positive that she had indeed seen them, he wasn’t so certain that drunken men would care about her having seen them. Fredrick and the maids approached their table, and Wolfram decided that he could safely leave them all in von Sarda’s care.

“One tumbler of beer. No. Bring more!” Yozak bellowed at the top of his lungs.

Wolfram turned towards the voice but wasn’t even able to see Yozak in the mishmash of the guards. Instead, he saw Conrart and Athara at the counter, discussing something. Reikia was still standing at the door, obviously put off by the environment. Wolfram grinned inwardly – at least there was someone more spoiled than him. He motioned for Reikia to come closer and join the table with Halea.

“Let’s ask if they have some wine,” he suggested, already turning towards the counter.

“Don’t think that I’m some spoiled brat,” Reikia grunted in indignation. “Get me the same the others are getting.”

Suppressing his grin, Wolfram elbowed his way through the excited mob. Certainly, Reikia had done his share of traveling, so he must know that some of the stuff was better poured out of the window instead into one’s stomach, but he was not about to argue. Let von Estram show off all he wanted.

When Wolfram reached the counter, Conrart proffered him a bottle of red wine. “Seems like he’s got some quality wine in stock.”

Conrart looked genuinely surprised at Wolfram’s nod. It seemed that his brother had prior knowledge regarding the stock of quality wine. “Von Ashira seems to visit here from time to time,” Wolfram explained. He pointed at the table with Halea, Athara, and Reikia. “Take it there, I’ll try to get one more bottle and, hopefully, at least a few glasses.”

The owner had five glasses available. Before giving them to Wolfram, he scrupulously wiped them with a cloth that probably dirtied them more than cleaned. Happy about the unexpected onrush of customers, he quickly arranged all the wine and whiskey bottles that he had in front of Wolfram.

With Conrart’s help, Wolfram got the glasses and bottles to their table. At the sight of the glasses, Fredrick took out a napkin from his pocket and wiped them again, then proffered one to Halea. He started pouring the wine.

Wolfram sipped his wine carefully and had to admit that it was much better than he had expected. He cast a sympathetic look at Reikia, who was staring at his tumbler of beer with the most peculiar expression on his face.

“Doesn’t taste that great, does it?” Athara asked, chuckling. “Here,” he said, pushing his already empty glass over to him. He started pouring the wine. “At least this won’t taste like horse-piss.”

Von Estram accepted defeat graciously and took the glass. Watching him, Wolfram wondered about the peculiarity of Reikia and Athara’s relationship. Reikia didn’t seem affected by Athara’s closeness. They were on friendly terms, but they weren’t friends exactly. Was this what was going to happen to him and Yuuri? Or maybe this had already happened.

Startled, Wolfram and Conrart looked at Yozak, who had suddenly materialized next to their table together with a whiff of spilt beer and the sound of laughter. He leaned to Wolfram’s ear.

“They said I was very lucky to serve you,” he whispered in a low conspiratorial voice. “Idiots, don’t know what they’re talking about.” he added with a grin. “They just love you to bits!”

Wolfram rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes, just don’t let them get drunk.”

They left the tavern about an hour later, when it became clear that it was either leave or stay for the night. Leaving was the right choice since the temptation to have some more beer seemed to drive the guards crazy.

Everyone was relaxed and the pace was slow. It was dark and three guards were carrying torches at the front and back of the group. Wolfram was almost certain that they would have to stop once or twice to answer nature’s call.

“Do you remember that time in Kartgize?” Conrart asked him, chuckling.

Wolfram gave his brother a look of torture. It hadn’t taken for Conrart much to get inebriated. It was no wonder, though. Conrart didn’t show it, but Wolfram knew that he must be tired from his very long and rigorous travel. Not to mention he went sightseeing at once, without any rest. It had been his choice, though. Eldara had suggested he relaxed, but Conrart still tagged along. 

“Why do you keep mentioning it?” Wolfram grunted. “I would have forgotten all about it if not for you and Gwendal’s constant reminder.”

“That’s because the dress suited you so well,” Conrart said, grinning. “You make one beautiful lady.”

“We were on a mission. And don’t tell me you forgot that…” Wolfram trailed off, not finishing. Yuuri had also been wearing a dress. Conrart kept bringing up the past that he wanted to forget.

“It’s a pity that His Majesty isn’t here. He’d have liked it.”

“Liked what?” Wolfram snorted, stopping his horse since Yozak had signaled for everyone to stop. “Getting drunk at a tavern?”

“He means well, Wolfram. If only you…”

“Conrart, stop bringing it up! It’s not your business!”

Conrart frowned at him. “Why are you so…?” He fell silent in search of a suitable adjective then just finished the sentence with a disappointed sigh.

Following the example of a few others, Conrart climbed off the horse and stretched his stiff limbs. His bladder was also letting itself be known, but he knew he could handle it till they reached the castle. He was warm and buzzed now, but could also feel anger simmering steadily underneath. Everything in Kardera annoyed him. Every little thing upset him to no end. Wolfram was annoying him a lot. He had had such high expectations before coming to see Wolfram and now he wasn’t able to understand what was happening.

Wolfram yelped in surprise as something hit the back of his head and exploded. He realized it had been a snowball and turned his head around, astonished at such impudence.

“Who did that?” he demanded, patting the back of his winter hat to get rid of clumps of snow. No one spoke, but everyone’s eyes seemed to turn to one way. The blond looked there as well only to get a second snowball right in his mouth. He spat out the snow and wiped his face. He stared at Conrart in disbelief. “What are you? A kid?”

Conrart was already making another snowball, and Wolfram slid off his horse to grab a handful of snow as well. He could remember that they used to play snowball wars, but that was over a decade ago, when he was still a child.

Surprised, Yozak watched the brothers. He had never seen Conrart like this. The fight that seemed playful at first was getting more and more intense. The snowballs were now being thrown with all of their might. The two had distanced themselves from the party and one of the guards wanted to follow them with a torch, but Yozak stopped him. He had a feeling he knew what this was about.

“How can you say that it’s not my business?” Conrart hissed, launching a snowball and barely missing the blond’s face.

“Because it’s not your freaking business!” Wolfram hissed back at him, already throwing another snowball. It hit Conrart on the chest, exploding over the front of his coat.

“Have you got any idea how worried everyone was when you disappeared?” Conrart spat. “When you got kidnapped by the pirates?”

“This has got nothing to do with anything!” Wolfram yelled at him.

“We had no idea what they were doing to you! Maybe you were being tortured! Or maybe they cut your fingers off! And we didn’t know what to do! His Majesty was beside Himself with worry! And here it appears that you’re… You’re… Look at you!” Conrart spread his arms wide apart as if trying to somehow grasp the baffling changes in Wolfram. “You’re banging this…this man!”

Speechless, Wolfram stared at him then grabbed more snow. “And to think that I wanted to make up with you!” he muttered angrily. “How idiotic of me! And what is your damn business again? Since when do you care? You never did!”

“I always have!” Conrart retorted angrily, counterattacking with his snowballs. “But you’ve never let me!” he shouted, hurt and irritation clear in his voice.

“Well, I let you just now and the next thing I know you’re trying to order me around! That’s not how it’s going to be. You have no right!”

Conrart snorted. “That again? I’ve got all the rights I need – we are a family and…”

When Wolfram received another mouthful of snow, his patience snapped like a twig and he summoned his fire element. Everything melting around him, he plowed through mud towards Conrart. Yet another snowball flew at the blond, but never reached him, evaporating in the scintillating heat.

Wolfram grabbed his brother by his shoulders and started shaking him the moment he was within reach. The smell of alcohol instantly hit his nostrils. Just how much did Conrart drink? Conrart was struggling and Wolfram slammed him against a nearby tree. Panting, he shook his brother again. He could hear Yozak saying something in Karderian, probably trying to stop everyone from interfering but couldn’t care less.

“You done venting yet?” Wolfram grunted out when it seemed that Conrart finally stopped struggling.

Panting, Conrad stared at him then his shoulders slumped. He nodded.

“What the hell is going on here?” Yozak demanded, approaching them.

Conrart suddenly threw a punch at Gurrier, and Wolfram had to pull him back before it could connect. It suddenly became all clear to Wolfram. He struggled with his brother for a few seconds then was pushed away, and Conrart went back to his horse. Wolfram wondered if he was able to ride. He turned to Yozak.

“Got caught red-handed, huh?” he snickered. “Make sure you deal with this.”

Yozak shook his head. “There’s nothing to deal with. We are not in that kind of relationship.”

Wolfram grunted in disbelief. “Who are you trying to convince here?”

“We are not!”

Wolfram patted down his coat, getting himself in order. “Well, then maybe you should be?” he told Yozak. He felt a little like a hypocrite telling this, but there was obviously some kind of a misunderstanding between Yozak and Conrart. 

Silently, the two of them joined the rest of the party and they continued towards the castle.

ooOoOoOoo

Conrart woke up with a splitting headache. With a groan, he sat up in bed and realized that he was dressed. He turned his head to see his coat on the chair and the boots underneath. The memories of yesterday’s outing flooded him and he groaned again. How was he going to face everyone? What if Wolfram had already changed his mind about making up with him? And he hadn’t even drunk much, just two glasses of wine and some beer.

There was a knock on the door, and Conrart cringed. Before he could say anything, the door opened. It was Yozak.

“Ah,” he said at the sight of Conrart sitting in the bed. “I thought you might still be sleeping.”

“Why did you come, then?” Conrart muttered, shifting to the edge of the bed and lowering his legs to the floor. The cold cut right through his socks and he shivered. A sudden spasm ran through his stomach and he frowned, his eyes started to dart all over the room trying to find something that could be used as a container.

Yozak stirred. “Feeling sick?” Alert, he glanced here and there then ran to grab the bowl with water meant for washing. He poured the water out onto a potted plant by the windowsill and was just in time to stick the bowl under Conrart’s face.

“Gods,” Conrart complained when the spasms lessened. “I didn’t even drink that much!”

“It could be because you’ve mixed up beer and wine,” Yozak told him. “The same happened to me a while ago. They probably put something either into their wine or beer which, when mixed up, causes a reaction.”

Grunting, Conrart lay down back unto the bed. He badly wanted to go to the bathroom but walking seemed to be an impossible task for now. “You could have told me,” he accused.

“Does it hurt?” Yozak asked, pointing at the other man’s face.

“My head?”

“No, your face. You’ve got a shiner bigger than my horse.”

“Ugh, what?” Conrart touched his face carefully. It did appear that, indeed, there was more to his hangover than only his bursting brain. “Wolfram?”

Yozak nodded. He could bet that the rest of his friend’s body didn’t look any better even though it had been covered by layered of clothing. Wolfram was a fire-wielder with a good aim and skilled at throwing fireballs. Conrart had never stood a chance. Wolfram probably didn’t realize his own strength against his half-human brother. It had been a long time ago when they’d had a decent spar.

“I think we need to talk,” Yozak said, pushing the bowl with vomit under the bed with his foot.

Conrart gave him an incredulous look. “Now? My head’s killing me.”

“I think it’s either now or never,” Yozak told him.

“Alright, then.”

“So about yesterday…”

“Err…yes. I’m sorry about yesterday.”

Yozak shook his head. “No, I think it was my fault.”

\- - - 

Wolfram was walking down the corridor towards Conrart’s room when he saw Yozak leave it. He waited a little until Gurrier disappeared in the hallway then proceeded with his route.

When Wolfram entered his room, Conrart started wondering how long one could suffer from a bursting bladder before it could really burst.

“Good morning,” Wolfram greeted, closing the door. “How are you?”

Conrart nodded. “Good morning. I suppose I’m…alive?”

Wolfram saw the bruise above his right eye. “Oh, sorry about that…” he said uncomfortably. Yet, the blond had received even more snowballs in his face, thus he didn’t feel very guilty. It was just that his face didn’t bruise so easily. 

Wolfram approached Conrart’s bed. A faint smell of vomit reached him. “I just saw Yozak leave,” he said. “Have you cleared it up between the two of you?”

Conrart patted the pillow behind him and pulled it up. “Cleared up what?” he asked, setting it behind his back, against the headboard. “There was nothing to clear.”

The blond frowned. “Ah, I see.” He suddenly turned around and started walking back to the door. Getting snowballs in the face and being made into a fool was not his favorite pastime.

Panicking Conrart stared at his back and exclaimed “Wait, wait, wait!” 

Wolfram turned around to see his brother reaching out towards him. 

“Yes, we have,” Conrad said, his cheeks reddening in embarrassment. Never had he thought that he would have to discuss his love life with Wolfram. “We have.”

Something clenched in Wolfram’s chest at this helpless gesture. He shared the same feeling as Conrart – he did not want to let go of this opportunity to settle and renew their relationship either. Only that he wasn’t as desperate as Conrart. 

The blond nodded. “That’s good. It was really awkward yesterday.” He waved his hand when Conrart opened his mouth with and obvious intention to apologize. “It’s fine. Let’s consider that never happened.”

Conrart nodded gratefully.

“Well, I’ll leave you to rest now,” Wolfram said. “I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

After his brother had left, Conrart waited for a few minutes then dashed to the door and ran all the way to the lavatory at the speed the castle walls had never witnessed before.

\- - -

Conrart had slept most of the day and, for the most part, his hangover had retreated by dinner. Therefore, he had decided to accept the invitation to dine with von Ashira and his other guests. This time, there were many more people than usual. The duke had also invited two of his advisors and Yozak with Karela. 

The main dish was a roasted boar stuffed with vegetables. Even though Conrart hadn’t been certain about his appetite, as soon as he entered the dining room, his mouth started watering at the aroma of meat and seasoning herbs. When the dinner started, there were very few conversations. Later, when everyone filled their stomachs and had a glass or two of wine, it became livelier. They were then invited to the lounge to listen to a musician playing flute. The merriment ended with applause and some people drifted away from the small party while others continued their conversations.

“What is the deal with von Estram?” Conrart asked softly while he and Yozak were walking away from the lounge. At some point, he had become aware of a strange atmosphere between the baron and his brother. Wolfram seemed to be uncomfortable around Reikia while at the same time the two seemed to be very aware of each other.

“He’s after Wolfram,” Yozak confirmed his worst suspicions. “Your brother… Well, he’s become quite popular.”

Conrart frowned – as if the duke wasn’t bad enough. “Why doesn’t von Ashira…? Why does he allow that?”

Yozak shrugged. “Maybe it’s because they are on good terms?” he offered. “Or maybe he doesn’t want to limit Wolfram’s choices?”

Not certain whether he was sarcastic or not, Conrart stared at him. Yozak motioned for him to follow him down the corridor to his room. “It’s probably just because von Ashira knows that von Estram poses no threat.”

“And why is that?” Conrart asked, falling into step with him.

“Wolfram’s got no interest in von Estram.”

“And why not?” Conrart grunted angrily, waving his hands. In his opinion, anyone was better than the duke.

Yozak watched Conrart throwing a tantrum and wondered whether he had also acted like his friend when he first realized that Wolfram and the duke shared a bed. Well, yes, he had. He still did. The reaction, though, did appear to be quite funny while watching from the sidelines.

“He’s your brother, not mine,” Yozak told him. “How should I know? Ask him if you want to know. Besides, who cares who he sleeps with?”

“I do!” Conrart shot back, furious. 

Yozak sighed. He pushed the door to his room open and motioned for Conrart to enter. He understood perfectly well that Wolfram was Conrart’s baby brother. The problem was that he wasn’t a baby, not anymore, and no matter how much they opposed, Wolfram’s word was final.

“Listen, despite what you think, it was Wolfram who took interest in von Ashira first, not the other way round,” Yozak told him even though he knew this was going to set Conrart off even more. “Wolfram was also quite insistent with him, too. Actually, this relationship is healthy for him. He needed someone to straighten him out after Shibuya.”

“But not him!”

Yozak rolled his eyes. “It’s his choice. From what I’ve seen, not such a bad one either.”

****

ooOo_Three days later_oOoo

Wolfram was still not in his room and Conrart took his time looking around. It was a much better room than he had received. On the other hand, there always seemed to be one or two occasional visitors to the castle. Besides, Wolfram’s suite and the two men that Conrart had brought with him also required accommodation.

Everything in Raizgad was different to what Conrart had imagined. Gunter hadn’t been clear on many things neither had Gwendal. Yet, Conrart found himself getting used to the thought of Wolfram having a lover. He would have probably protested much more, but the discontentment was quickly blanketed by Wolfram’s genuine interest in mending their relationship. Conrart was happy about that and was doing his best not to damage the delicate bond that was forming between them. 

There was also the matter of Yozak and Karela that kept his mind occupied as well. No matter how awkward it had been, the three of them had discussed the issue. It had brought surprising results. Karela Ine appeared to be a reasonable and open-minded person. Conrart, however, still wasn’t certain he was ready for that kind of a relationship.

The sword that Yuuri had presented Wolfram with could be spotted from the very entrance – Wolfram kept it in the corner between the wall and the wardrobe. It wasn’t a very good place if one wanted to reach it fast. His brother, obviously, was reluctant to keep it close to his bed. 

Conrart approached the sword and took it together with the sheath, into his hands. He slowly pulled it out. This was not the sword that he had picked for Wolfram. At first, he had picked another one, less flashy. His Majesty, though, had decided that it didn’t have enough of an impact for a king’s gift. 

Chuckling lightly, Conrad pushed the blade back into its sheath and then leaned it against the wardrobe. His Majesty had never been worried about impact before. Wolfram didn’t realize or simply didn’t want to realize but His Majesty awaited the news about him from Kardera with baited breath. Mostly it was guilt and regret that had made His Majesty so restless.

Conrart’s eyes were attracted by the pillow on the bed that was unnaturally puffed out. Did Wolfram keep a dagger underneath? Curious, Conrart checked. It appeared to be a couple of booklets. He leafed through one of them and felt his cheeks starting to burn. Where did Wolfram get them? The uncanny images of his brother reading them and perusing the detailed drawings assaulted his mind.

The story seemed to be about a woman working at a brothel. The illustrations of breasts, vaginal, oral, and anal sex filled the pictures. Then later into the story, it expanded into threesomes and orgies with many men and other prostitutes.

It was best not to get caught perusing this kind of literature, thus Conrart put the booklets back and covered them carefully with the pillow again. When Wolfram returned to his room, he acted as if he had never seen the stash.

“What did His Grace want?” he asked the blond.

“He’s writing a reply to Gwendal, thus asked me if I wanted to send him a letter as well,” Wolfram explained, sitting down at the table. He motioned for Conrart to join him. “What about you? Going to write one?”

Conrart nodded. “Already did this morning, will just have to pass it to His Grace.”

Wolfram gave him a look. Conrart was no less thorough in reporting than Fajdal or Yozak. Somehow, that annoyed the blond. Yet, he was more worried about what he was supposed to write to Gwendal. Should he pretend that he didn’t know what Gwendal’s letter to Eldara entailed? That would be the easiest, but it would be a coward’s way to avoid responsibility. Eldara and him were together in this.

Nonetheless, it didn’t seem that Eldara was upset about Gwendal’s letter. Quite the opposite, he seemed to be in a very good mood while replying to the discontent and demands Gwendal had expressed. It was a mystery to Wolfram what Eldara wrote, the only thing the duke had informed him was that he had assured Gwendal that there was no improper relationship between them. Apparently, to Eldara’s mind, everything was very proper. Wolfram had doubts whether Gwendal would be agreeing to that.

TBC


	34. Part 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Kyou Kara Maou! – It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I’m not making any money from writing it.  
> Warnings: yaoi (male x male), violence, swearing, angst, drama. Wolfram-centric, out of character, original character.  
> Summary: With Yuuri’s upcoming birthday, Wolfram makes his decision. Where will it lead him and what is to become of them? Should eventually be Yuuri x Wolfram.  
> A/N 1: Yuuri – 18 years old. Wolfram – 21. Eldara – 32. Halea – 20. Athara – 18.  
> A/N 2: Greta doesn’t exist.  
> A/N 3: European/American/Japanese standards all at once depending on the plot requirements.  
> A/N 4: A tendency to ignore the anime/manga and supplement the story with my own imagined facts.   
> A/N 5: Season III is not taken into consideration, except for the fact that Wolfram’s uncle exists.  
> A/N 6: The umlaut in Gunter’s name is a bother.

**Bloom**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com)

Part 34

Von Estram’s departure was sudden but not a moment too soon. Wolfram was relieved when the man declared that he was leaving in the afternoon. Reikia’s presence hadn’t made Wolfram like him more. Actually, it was the opposite. He felt that with every passing hour the man was becoming more and more pitiful. Wolfram realized the situation reminded him of his and Yuuri’s fruitless relationship too much. He saw his old pitiful self in Reikia and hated it.

Before von Estram’s departure, Wolfram did his usual morning activities: went for a ride in the yard with Rendar, sparred with Yozak and, finally, took a bath. Then, as usual, everyone gathered for lunch. The mood was good at the table. Wolfram cast a look at Conrart. His brother was back to normal; the after effects of his grand hangover a few days ago had completely disappeared. Wolfram still felt that there was some sort of wall between them, but it was crumbling bit by bit. It was no surprise that a lot of effort was going to be required to remove that wall. Wolfram had been building it for several years.

Wolfram felt someone staring at him and turned his head to meet Eldara’s stare. The duke’s fingertips touched his glass lightly. This was an indication that Wolfram had already had enough of wine. The blond glared at him but pushed his half-full glass aside. So he was still under surveillance. Figures. 

After lunch, von Estram went to his room to finish packing for his journey home. In about ten minutes, a servant came to Wolfram to tell him that von Estram requested for him to come to his room. A little apprehensive of a dramatic separation, Wolfram complied. To his relief, he found Eldara in von Estram’s room as well.

“I just wanted to apologize for any discomfort I might have caused you,” Reikia said smiling a little.

Wolfram realized that the relief must have shown on his face and blushed in embarrassment. “It’s alright,” he muttered. “I think we both know which of us was more discomforted.”

Reikia nodded. He turned to Eldara, who was sitting on the sofa, near the packed trunk. “He really can be considerate when he wants,” he said.

Eldara shrugged. “As long as you don’t push it,” he said, standing up. He headed for the door. Wolfram nodded at von Estram and wanted to follow the duke, but Reikia’s hand caught his elbow.

“I’ve got a request, Wolfram.”

Wolfram turned around to face him. It irritated him that the man still insisted on calling him by his name. “Yes?” he asked, pulling his elbow out of Reikia’s grasp.

“How about a kiss to make a pleasant memory out of this nonsensical romance?”

Wolfram stared at him uncertainly then turned to Eldara to see the door close on his back. Certainly, the duke had heard the request and had left it for him to decide. Wolfram’s first instinct was to refuse. Then he thought about Yuuri and their relationship.

“No tongue, I promise,” Reikia added seeing the blond actually considering his request.

“Alright,” Wolfram muttered. After all, he didn’t even have a memory like that with Yuuri. Was it for better or worse, though?

“You surprise me,” Reikia said not having expected Wolfram to give his consent. 

Wolfram frowned at him but before he could say anything, Reikia’s lips pressed to his. It felt strangely comforting to feel the other man’s lips move against his. At the same time, it was unnerving, and Wolfram wasn’t certain which feelings were his and which part of them was how he thought Reikia must feel.

Von Estram’s hand rounded the blond’s waist and slid to his buttock to give a firm squeeze.

“Mngh!” Wolfram gasped in protest, and the tongue was in. It managed to sweep over the edge of the blond’s teeth then rub over his tongue, and then Wolfram shoved Reikia away angrily. He raised his hand but never delivered the blow. There was desperate acceptance in von Estram’s sad eyes.

“Shit,” Wolfram muttered, lowering his arm and turning away. He wiped saliva off his mouth with his sleeve.

“Thanks,” Reikia said.

“I’m bad with this drama,” Wolfram grunted walking towards the door. He, however, knew that he was the reason for it and it gave him no right to complain.

Reikia left an hour later.

\- - -

“Wolfram, could you go visit von Luana?” the duke asked while they were dining. “A few hours ago, he expressed a wish to see you.”

Wolfram nodded. “Certainly.” He had already planned to visit the elderly gentleman. Some stories von Luana told were starting to repeat themselves, but Wolfram still enjoyed his company.

Despite Conrart’s self-control, his fingers gripped the spoon firmly while, under the table, his left hand pressed itself into a fist. This was not the first time when Conrart heard them address each other so familiarly but this time it really got on his nerves. 

“Your Grace,” Conrart started saying even before he realized that he had opened his mouth, “how about we have a spar after dinner?”

The duke’s eyes left the plate with beetroot soup that he was eating and concentrated on Conrart’s face. He was not deceived by the brunette’s easy-going smile.

He returned the innocent smile. “Where did this sudden excitement come from?” he asked.

“Oh, I’m always excited about swords, Your Grace,” Conrart answered good-naturedly.

“That must be true, Sir,” Eldara agreed, “when we are talking about one of the best swordsmen in Shin Makoku’s history.”

Conrart bowed his head humbly. “Your Grace flatters me too much.”

Eldara lowered his eyes back to the soup and scooped up a spoonful of ruby liquid. “Despite all the excitement, I am not so certain that I am a worthy opponent for you – your brother overcomes me nearly every time we spar. Maybe it’s a better idea to spar against him.”

Conrart cast a glance at Wolfram, who grinned at him. That was unexpected. Conrart was a little disappointed that the duke dismissed his challenge so easily. He had deemed von Ashira to be a man who always aimed for victory no matter how small. On the other hand, von Ashira was also someone who knew that one could not win all the battles.

“Yet, if Sir still wants to bother with me, I will gladly oblige,” Eldara said. Weller seemed to be surprised, and the duke chuckled inwardly. He understood Weller’s discontentment – it was the same as von Voltaire’s or von Christ’s. Therefore, he was ready to humor Weller at least for a bit. He found the situation amusing.

\- - -

The amusement was quickly dissipating while the duke was watching Conrart and Wolfram sparring. It was replaced by the inevitability of pain. As expected, Wolfram was physically stronger as a pureblood while Conrart was more technically skilled. They were using wooden swords but the hits that connected were clearly going to leave bruises. The two weren’t kidding around.

“Well, ready, Your Grace?” Conrart asked, walking to the duke. His spar with Wolfram was over. Panting lightly, Conrart wiped sweat off his forehead.

“Why doesn’t Sir rest for a minute or two?” Eldara asked, taking his long, brown jacket off. He shivered at the cool air in the hall. Weller was giving him a look that indicated that rest would make no difference and that the spar could end in only one way. “I will warm up meanwhile.”

Wolfram lowered his sword back into the rack with others. It had been a close call but, as expected, his brother had won by a far greater number. When Conrart had challenged Eldara, he was surprised by Conrart’s unexpected immaturity. Normally, his brother was the epitome of self-control and discipline. He had never ever snapped at Yuuri no matter what stupid things he had done. On the other hand, Wolfram had never expected that spectacle from Conrart after they had left the tavern either. That snow fight was an unprecedented phenomenon. That and this fight with the duke were new experiences. Conrart normally didn’t lash out.

The training hall was bustling with soldiers. It was unusually busy for this time of day and all of it was because everyone wanted to see one of the best Shin Makoku’s swordsmen in action. While Wolfram and Conrart had been fighting, at first, some of them had been rooting for Wolfram, others for Conrart. Later, when it was obvious that the younger man required more luck and skill, they had started cheering for the blond.

Halea and Fredrick were also present, Halea’s eyes following her brother with concern. She knew perfectly well what it was about and was a little worried about how Eldara was going to deal with the inevitable humiliation. For now, Eldara fared well. He finally finished warming up and confronted Conrart. The hall hushed. 

Conrart attacked first, the duke parried the blow, turning the incoming blade aside. He slashed backwards aiming at Conrart’s stomach. Conrart jumped back to avoid it, and then had to parry another attack. He did so without any difficulties, the duke’s wooden sword sliding down over his. Conrart shook it free and counterattacked, their blades meeting again and locking. They pushed against each other then, seeing it was futile to try and overpower each other, stepped back at the same time according to some unknown command that passed only between the two of them.

The duke was a little better than Conrart had expected, and it irritated him. Yet, he was worse than Wolfram and the outcome was clear from the first testing blows they had exchanged. Eldara could hold his ground but not for long and not from an intricate swordsmanship style. That was simply the matter of skill.

The corners of Eldara’s lips turned up wryly when Conrart started pushing him, attacking mercilessly. The man exploited every weakness, every opportunity and soon his list of successful attacks went up to fourteen while Eldara’s went only up to four. It was pitiful but the duke couldn’t help grinning at the annoyance that was pouring in waves off Conrart.

With fifteen points in Conrart’s possession, it was finally over and the duke leaned on his sword, resting.

“That was marvelous, Sir,” he complimented Conrart, trying to catch his breath. He wiped at his forehead.

“Thank you, Your Grace,” Conrart said.

“It’s no wonder you are considered best from the best.”

Conrart blanched lightly, his lips thinning. “They say people die from their obsessions, Your Grace,” he said grimly, walking to store his wooden sword in the rack. Instead of the anticipated joy of victory, he felt discontent.

“Hmm…” Eldara grunted, turning away. Concern yourself with swords, die by a sword. It was definitely going to be true in Conrart’s case, but... “The cause of my grandmother’s death couldn’t have been her high knitting obsession,” the duke said softly. A few seconds of silence reigned in the training hall which was only interrupted by the duke’s question, “Could it?”

Wolfram blinked. It didn’t feel appropriate to laugh when it concerned death, and Conrart’s face looked strange, too.

“That’s not even funny. She died of old age,” Halea said, rolling her eyes at Eldara. “Life was what had killed her.”

“Or…” Eldara said, raising his index finger into the air meaningfully, “it might have been the knitting.”

“Stop kidding around,” Halea said.

“I’m not kidding around,” Eldara said. “I didn’t even tell them about our uncle, who might have died of too much fishing.”

\- - - 

Next two days were uneventful, and to offer his guests some recreational activity, Eldara suggested the outing to a hot spring resort. Having already tested its waters and hospitality, Wolfram accepted the invitation gladly and, despite the cold weather and about two hours’ long journey, urged the others to do the same. Conrart decided to join as well, and, in the end, it was him, Wolfram, Athara, Fredrick and Eldara with their suites who went.

The journey to the resort didn’t last as long as Wolfram had remembered it. Last time he had been there after separating from a hunting party nearly in the middle of the forest. This time, they chose the direct path and reached the spring by lunch. Coincidentally or not, they also found a few other people enjoying themselves in the resort. One of them appeared to be the duke’s acquaintance.

“Baron Dayanera von Blumstein,” Eldara introduced a lanky, middle-aged man, who bowed, taking his winter hat off. His longish white-tinged dark hair was parted in the middle. His face bore regular features and he would have been handsome if not for his extremely prominent nose. 

“Ah, yes, I remember the baron from the birthday party,” Wolfram said. After a pleasant exchange between the two, the blond made a gesture to Conrad and said, “This is my brother Conrart Weller.”

“Fredrick von Sarda,” Fredrick said, shaking von Blumstein’s hand. “Nice to see you again.”

Since the baron had also arrived just recently, Eldara invited him to have lunch together with them. Wolfram went to unpack the lunch bags and get the towels. They consumed their food at the inn, ordered more hot meals and dampened their otherwise dehydrated throats with wine and beer. Once their stomachs were full, they brought towels and went into the spring.

\- - -

Wolfram relaxed his back against the edge. It was just as good as he remembered. The weather was cold today, and the idea of undressing oneself had seemed unpleasant. Yet, once conquered, the rest was easy – slipping into the spring was heaven-sent. The blond, however, dreaded the idea of getting out of the hot spring into the cool air no less.

Wolfram had been somewhat worried that Eldara might start openly or secretly flirting with him just like last time, but nothing of the sort happened. Eldara behaved with dignity and didn’t pay him more attention than usual. Wolfram would never admit to himself but he was somewhat disappointed by this appropriate consideration. 

The blond looked over at Eldara, who was soaking opposite him. The duke felt him looking, and his brow rose questioningly. Then he seemed to understand what the look was about and couldn’t help chuckling. A little embarrassed, Wolfram ducked his head. He didn’t catch a promise in the duke’s gaze. It, however, had been easily picked up by Conrart, who was still very sensitive to these exchanges between his brother and his lover.

\- - - 

“So does this precious gem belong to you?” Dayanera asked softly. 

Eldara turned his head to the baron. Dayanera had spoken softly but not softly enough to have missed Conrart’s well-trained ears. Weller was just right behind the duke’s mare. Unsuspecting, Dayanera gave the blond one more appreciating look and smiled approvingly. Oblivious to them, Wolfram was packing their towels and getting ready for the journey home.

Eldara and Dayanera had their backs to Conrart, and the duke could feel his scalp tingling. “Yes, he does,” Eldara said. “For now, we belong to each other,” he added diplomatically. Then, to avoid any further mishaps, he smacked the mare’s rump to make her move sideways. “And this is the precious gem’s brother,” the duke introduced them again. “Lord Conrart Weller.”

“Oh.” An uncomfortable smile appeared on Dayanera’s face while he reached out to pat Conrart’s shoulder. “That’s a bit awkward but you’re probably used to it already,” he said with a chuckle.

“Not really, baron,” Conrart said, moving away from him.

Dayanera didn’t appear to be bothered by the curt response. Conrart suspected that he was rarely bothered by anything – he didn’t seem to be the type. The man kept smiling then, with a bow, excused himself and walked over to his suite.

\- - - 

Eldara leaned closer to Wolfram’s ear. “What did you want me to do back at the spring?” 

Eldara’s hand slid over the blond’s waist while his mouth suckled on the blond’s neck. The two of them were in Wolfram’s room, in bed. Wolfram was gazing up at him with the most innocent look on his face.

“When? Nothing.”

The duke chuckled. “I disagree. Maybe this?” he asked squeezing a buttock in his palm. “What if someone would have noticed?” Hmmm? Or maybe it would have excited you?”

Squirming underneath him, Wolfram chuckled. “Where do you get these ideas?” He then grinned and with a mischievous glint in his eyes said, “Maybe. But it doesn’t mean I wouldn’t have been mortified.”

“Maybe I should have sat next to you and done this,” Eldara said, his hand sliding to the blond’s member cupping it. “Maybe I should have made you come in secret.”

Wolfram seemed to like this thought and his eyes dilated. The duke now was stroking him, and he enjoyed the touch. 

“Or should I have smacked your bottom while walking past? Would that have helped?”

Wolfram nodded, laughing. “It would have also helped the rest of the people. I can only imagine Conrart’s face.”

Eldara’s nose scrunched playfully. “There would have been another duel, and I’d have lost again.”

“I knew you were afraid of him,” the blond commented smugly. 

“Of course I’m afraid of him. Only a fool wouldn’t be afraid of your older brothers.”

Wolfram rolled his eyes. “Less talk, more action,” he said, raising his arms and wrapping them around the duke’s shoulders to draw him in for a sloppy kiss.

“Eager, aren’t you?” Eldara panted out when they broke apart.

“I’ve been waiting for it since the hot springs,” Wolfram told him accusingly. 

Eldara was playing with his testicles, squeezing, massaging and rubbing. With him lying on his back with his legs spread widely apart, the older man had the access to all his private parts. Sometimes, his fingers would slip lower to tease him and Wolfram would tense in anticipation. 

“It definitely seems so,” Eldara agreed with him.

Wolfram was becoming restless, his grip on Eldara’s thigh strengthening. Eldara stroked harder, his other hand slipping in between the blond’s buttocks. He pushed his middle finger into the blond and was rewarded with immediate effects: the blond moaned loudly, his body seizing up around his finger. The younger man pushed himself up and down on it a few times and then was coming with short quick gasps.

Short of breath, Wolfram opened his eyes. He tensed and shivered when Eldara’s finger slipped out of him. He saw the other man pat over his pockets looking for a handkerchief. Wanting to offer his, he was about to reach his hand to his jacket but then remembered that it was further away. It was on the chair and he didn’t want to move yet. Instead, he reached out to Eldara’s jutting length and gave it a few languid, teasing strokes. He figured the other man was going to put it inside him now.

Wiping his fingers, Eldara gave the blond a curious look. Wolfram’s touch was careful, slow as if admiring. Sensing what was going on in the blond head, Eldara grinned. He covered Wolfram’s hand with his to apply more pressure. Wolfram kept stroking obediently, then, urged by Eldara, picked up the speed.

“Umm…” the blond said uncertainly, when he became aware that Eldara was going to come soon. “I thought you’d want to…”

Eldara gave him a curious look. “You do love it, don’t you?” he teased lightly. “Doesn’t it sting?”

Wolfram’s cheeks tinged with pink. “Mmm…no. More like…it itches.” 

Eldara chuckled, the sound low and filled with lust. He felt the urge to comply with the blond’s reckless anticipations, but he’d probably come as soon as he entered the other man.

“Why not let it rest for today?” he teased, slipping his hand in between the blond’s thighs and brushing over the twitching entrance. “It might be quite painful if we tried to do it so soon. Rub in some medicine before going to sleep.”

Wolfram raised a skeptical eyebrow at him. “Then I should probably go to sleep already.” He squeezed Eldara’s cock in his hand. “Or…you could just fuck me.”

Wolfram’s eyes closed when the duke’s fingers slid into him again. The fingers moved back and forth again, then disappeared. Eldara listened to Wolfram grunt softly when he pushed in. The blond shifted underneath him to get more comfortable then stilled again.

A few thrusts were all it took for Wolfram to get going. The blond’s body opened up, his breath turning into short shallow pants. He’d really been holding it in.

Eldara pulled out and pushed a pillow under the blond’s hips to raise his pelvis higher. When he pushed back in, the blond’s eyes nearly crossed in pleasure. Wolfram was easy once you figured him out.

Wolfram came with a soft guttural sound, his teeth clenching together. Eldara played with his softening member then let himself come as well. They cleaned themselves quickly and went to sleep.

**oOo_Two Days Later_oOo**

“Let’s go to the baths,” Wolfram told Yozak. “You’ll keep me company.”

With a vigorous roll of his eyes, Gurrier fell into the step after the blond. “Shouldn’t you get a dog for that purpose?” he asked.

“I can’t talk to a dog.”

“Of course you can,” Yozak told him.

Wolfram turned to look at him. “Yes, and it would probably understand more than you too.” 

The captain grumbled under his breath. With a final sigh of protest, he turned around and left for his room to get spare clothes. After taking them, he found the blond already in the baths, undressing. There were only a few oil lamps burning, and the rising steam from one of the tubs that Wolfram asked to be heated beforehand didn’t help the visibility. Yozak approached the long bench the blond was standing at and followed his suit. Leaving their clothes on the bench, with only towels wrapped around their waists, they went to the tub. Wolfram left the toiletries on the small bench near the edge of the tub within his reach.

The water was hot and Wolfram hummed in pleasure while lowering himself slowly into the steaming tub. He sat down so that only his neck and head were visible and closed his eyes, relaxing. From the opposite side of the tub, Yozak was giving him a quite displeased look, but Wolfram couldn’t see that. There was a line of hickeys following alongside the blond’s neck and down to his right collarbone. Wolfram’s neck had always been sensitive. The duke had, obviously, ascertained that for himself.

They soaked for about ten minutes then Wolfram stood up and turned around to reach for the shampoo on the bench. Yozak’s eyes were drawn to the motion then, involuntary, followed the running droplets down the shoulders and the smooth back, right to the dip of the buttocks that were barely covered by the loose towel. With a grunt, the captain stood up.

The loud smack on his bottom made Wolfram shriek in surprise and nearly drop the shampoo bottle. Shocked, he turned to stare at Yozak, who was climbing out of the tub.

“What… What?” Wolfram demanded, stunned so much that he could not even form a sentence. “How dare you?!” he demanded again.

“Take a look at yourself in a mirror,” Yozak told him. He was already drying himself with a towel. “And don’t ever invite me to take a bath with you again. That was most awkward.”

Confused, Wolfram watched him dress. Yozak left quickly and without another word. The blond continued washing himself and, once done, left for his room. Driven by sheer curiosity, he went to his wardrobe and took a look at himself in the mirror. He didn’t notice anything at first then cursed softly and bared the right side of his neck then the collarbone on the same side. Blushing, he stared at the marks on his skin. It was no wonder Gurrier had bolted like that. It felt awkward indeed to think that Yozak could see him in a sexual manner. 

With a soft sigh, Wolfram buttoned his shirt and jacket again. It was a lesson well-learned. It wouldn’t do for others to see him like this. Eldara had, obviously, done this on purpose. Wolfram wasn’t certain whether he was pleased or angry, most likely, both.

TBC


	35. Part 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Kyou Kara Maou! – It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I’m not making any money from writing it.  
> Warnings: yaoi (male x male), violence, swearing, angst, drama. Wolfram-centric, out of character, original character.  
> Summary: With Yuuri’s upcoming birthday, Wolfram makes his decision. Where will it lead him and what is to become of them? Should eventually be Yuuri x Wolfram.  
> A/N 1: Yuuri – 18 years old. Wolfram – 21. Eldara – 32. Halea – 20. Athara – 18. Gwendal – 54.  
> A/N 2: Greta doesn’t exist.  
> A/N 3: European/American/Japanese standards all at once depending on the plot requirements.  
> A/N 4: A tendency to ignore the anime/manga and supplement the story with my own imagined facts.  
> A/N 5: Season III is not taken into consideration, except for the fact that Wolfram’s uncle exists.  
> A/N 6: The umlaut in Gunter’s name is a bother.

**Bloom**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by bishie82

Part 35

Eldara saw his brother head for the library. He was obviously bored and, even if Eldara was glad that he had stopped frequenting the brothel, he was worried that it might not be long before Athara found something as equally disgraceful to do. He had to find some occupation for Athara, or, at least, set an example. The problem was that Athara didn’t care for his elder brother’s example. Asking Halea was out of the question - Halea was busy turning Fredrick’s last resistance to mush.

“Why don’t you invite Athara for a spar?” Eldara suggested to Wolfram one morning. “Or maybe you two could go for a ride in the park?”

Wolfram gave the duke a dubious look. “I don’t think he likes me that much,” he said, tactfully not adding that the feeling was mutual.

The duke chuckled. “You’d be surprised.”

The blond wondered what exactly Eldara meant by that. It was not the first time when the duke mentioned about Athara’s interest in him.

“Alright,” Wolfram said, giving in.

“He’s pretty good with a sword,” Eldara told him. “Riding… Well, he pretty much hates horses. So he mostly uses coaches.”

“Has he fallen off one as a child?” Wolfram asked. There were quite many people like that. He remembered one of the maids in Blood Pledge Castle was still terrified of horses after she had fallen off one ten years ago.

“No,” Eldara denied. “He simply hates the smell.”

“Spoiled brat.”

Eldara chuckled. “That’s what I keep calling him. He isn’t too happy about it.”

“You shouldn’t,” Wolfram said, grinning. “He’s already got this huge inferiority complex towards you.”

“This sounds very familiar,” the duke pointed out.

“Me and Gwendal work a bit differently.”

“Yes. Nonetheless… Oh, well,” Eldara waved off not finishing. “I know. It’s just that he’s so…”

“He’s eighteen,” Wolfram told him. “Not everyone can lead men into battle at that age, and you can’t expect him to turn into this well-respected and feared copy of yourself. You have too high expectations of him. You’re driving him up to a wall so to speak.”

Eldara chuckled. “Well, don’t you sound all adult-like and wise beyond your years?”

“If you tell me that I can’t judge just because I’m barely twenty-one, I’ll get really mad.”

Wolfram was serious, but Eldara chuckled. “And yet, getting into my bed was a big lapse in judgment.”

The blond rolled his eyes. “I know that if you thought that, you would have never allowed yourself to be seduced.”

“You put too much faith in me.”

Wolfram gave him a long, emerald stare. “I can’t understand if you’re serious or not.” He rarely felt patronized or overwhelmed around Eldara anymore, but moments like these made him think how much he really knew about the duke. He still felt inferior sometimes. He understood Athara’s feelings only too well.

Eldara smiled. “Does it even matter?”

“I suppose not, as long as we are having a good time.”

“Indeed.”

“I’ll try talking to him,” Wolfram promised returning to Athara.

The duke nodded. “Thank you.”

\- - - 

Wolfram found Athara in the library, reading a book. After asking, Wolfram found out that the title was _Ten Miles Away_. The book was about travels. Wolfram found little interest in it since he wasn’t able to read in Karderian. Instead of inquiring more details about the book, he went straight to the point and invited Athara for a spar. The youngest von Ashira gave him a surprised look but agreed. Wolfram realized that his invitation had sounded far-fetched since he normally sparred with his men or Eldara.

“Did my brother ask you to keep me company?” Athara asked, closing the book. He went to the shelf he had taken the book from and pushed it back in.

“Yes,” Wolfram admitted easily. “He’s worried about you. And as for me – I have nothing better to do.”

“You’re awfully frank today,” Athara said, walking out of the door, Wolfram following him.

“You don’t want me to be?”

“I didn’t say that,” Athara muttered. “It’s that usually you’re more evasive.”

“Eldara told me that you’re good at swordfight.”

“I suppose I am,” Athara agreed. “I don’t exercise as often as I should, though.”

“And why not?”

“I don’t feel like it, I suppose,” Athara said. Wolfram bothered him. The main reason for that was that the blond looked deceptively young, innocent and spoiled. He was all of that but was also much more than that. Even Eldara was careful around him.

They entered the training hall, and Athara cast a glance at Wolfram’s captain that had followed them. In a few moments, the door opened and Karela stepped in. This was ridiculous but it was not as if he could tell them to go away. Wolfram was already shrugging his jacket off. The blond carried it to hang on one of the hooks at the wall. Athara sighed and followed his example.

Wolfram was picking a sword. Athara watched him closely. He still found it hard to believe that Wolfram and his brother were… What exactly were they? Sex-buddies? Playmates? He had noticed long ago that Eldara preferred older partners, thus him bedding Wolfram came as a big surprise. Their relationship weren’t as that of lovers’, at least it didn’t seem so, but the two of them were really close. Friends with benefits was probably the most accurate description.

Athara pursed his lips and cast a look at the captains at the door. They seemed to be engaged in a conversation. He could tell straight away that the two were flirting with each other. Recently, the castle had turned into a love nest. Breathing a sigh of exasperation, Athara waited for the blond to get into a fighting stance to start the duel. 

Neither Eldara, nor Athara had exaggerated – Athara was really good at swordfight. Not as good as Wolfram himself, but good enough to make an opposition. Wolfram found himself enjoying their spar. At eighteen, Athara was already nearly as good as Eldara.

\- - - 

Before they went to spar, Wolfram had asked to heat water for the bath and it was ready for them now. Wolfram was already inside, soaking, when Athara reached the baths with a spare change of clothes. He undressed and got in as well.

Athara looked at Wolfram, who was washing his hair. He wondered if the blond knew that there was a huge hickey on his shoulder. Eldara was shameless.

“So women don’t do anything to you?”

Surprised, Wolfram looked at him. “They don’t,” he confirmed.

Athara nodded. He knew for a fact that women did something to Wolfram and it was probably inciting a reaction of repulse. Athara didn’t understand that, could not even pretend to understand. Frankly, he saw no appeal in men. He could, however, understand why other men found Wolfram appealing. He was handsome. Wolfram was probably the most handsome man he had ever seen.

“And men?” Athara wondered. “What kind of men do you prefer?”

Wolfram stared at him for several seconds then continued to wash his hair. “That’s an untactful question.”

“So it is,” Athara agreed. He was simply curious, though. There was such a huge gap between Eldara and Shibuya of Shin Makoku that it was only natural to wonder. It didn’t seem like the two had anything in common.

Athara watched several droplets of water running down the blond’s shoulders and chest while some were just hanging onto his smooth skin. Indeed, Wolfram was not only handsome but also well-built. He had no scars. He had regained his normal body weight quite a long time ago, was proportionally muscled with quite wide shoulders and chest. Maybe he was still growing – one could never be certain with Demons.

The hickey did bother him.

Wolfram finished rinsing his hair and opened his eyes to see Athara standing right in front of him. His first instinct was to step backwards and raise his hand in front of him to regain his personal space.

Wolfram grunted in surprise when the younger male’s palm brushed over his waist then settled on his hips squeezing lightly. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I actually have no idea,” Athara told him.

Wolfram pushed him away. “If you want to experiment, it’s best you find someone else.”

“Yes,” Athara agreed. “But I don’t think I can get it up with anyone else.”

Wolfram stared at him, frowning, then, unexpectedly, laughed. “Why the sudden interest?”

Athara pondered the question for a few moments then shrugged. “Blame it on this,” he said, pointing at Wolfram’s shoulder.

Not understanding, Wolfram touched his shoulder.

“A hickey,” Athara supplied. “He left a hickey on you, the size of a dragon.”

“Oh…” Wolfram rubbed his shoulder awkwardly. “Do you…? Do you actually want to do this kind of thing with your brother?” he asked uncertainly.

“Huh? What? No!” Athara grimaced in disgust. “Eww…” He moved away from Wolfram. “This has totally ruined the mood.”

“There was no mood to begin with,” Wolfram informed him.

“Well, you weren’t exactly helpful,” Athara accused him, laughing.

“In any case,” Wolfram said, waving his hands about. “I’m really not suitable for this.”

“And why not?”

“Because he would kill me for laying my hands on his precious little brother,” Wolfram spat.

Athara doubted Eldara would care much. Maybe he would even approve. Or maybe he would feel jealous or competitive and try to take the blond away from him. Amused, Athara pondered on that then said, “I wonder if von Voltaire hates my brother.”

Wolfram frowned. It was very likely that Gwendal did. Judging from Conrart’s reactions… Gwendal was probably very angry with them both, him and Eldara. He was old enough to bed whomever he wished and yet, Wolfram felt guilty. Von Ashira wasn’t someone he could proudly show off to Gwendal. Eldara was…well…

Unconsciously, Wolfram touched his shoulder. And yet, he didn’t feel like he was making a mistake. Eldara was his first man, and the more he thought about it, the more certain he became that he wouldn’t want it any other way. He felt comfortable with Eldara.

**oOo_Two Weeks Later_oOo**

Wolfram was in Eldara’s study, watching three men in the yard. He was standing close to the window while Eldara was at his desk, shuffling through various documents. He should have started writing a letter but, today, his heart wasn’t in business. He was more curious about the pondering look on the blond’s face.

“What are you thinking about?” Eldara asked him.

“It’s going to be troublesome,” Wolfram said watching the three men riding around in the park. He still couldn’t believe Conrart was alright with that kind of relationship. He would have never imagined. He still wasn’t able to. At least, the abnormal relationship stopped Conrart’s attempts to preach to him about his sexual life.

“Hmm?” The duke wondered what Wolfram was talking about. He got up from behind the desk and cast a look outside the window. “Oh, you mean them,” he said after noticing whom Wolfram was watching. “There won’t be any trouble,” he denied the blond’s words. “They’ll play around, and then Gurrier and your brother will return to Shin Makoku. This kind of relationship is bound to fail even if the three of them stay together in Kardera.”

Wolfram turned away from the window. Even if that concerned his brother, he found the situation somewhat amusing. “Nonetheless, what if Karela decides to follow them?”

“He’s got a family to take care of – his mother and two younger sisters.”

Wolfram’s bright eyes set on Eldara’s challengingly. “What if he decides to move them to Shin Makoku as well?”

Shaking his head, Eldara laughed softly. “And what makes you think I would allow that?”

Wolfram turned back to the window. “Well, I suppose you wouldn’t. Men like him are not easy to replace.” 

“Wolfram, there are no irreplaceable people,” Eldara told him. “You and I, we can also be easily replaced. Only that sometimes it’s not worth the trouble.”

“Was that what you thought when you found me with the pirates?” Wolfram asked without turning around.

The duke gave the back of the blond’s head a surprised and curious look. His silence was enough of an indication for Wolfram to realize that he was right. He laughed softly. 

“Thought so.”

“Yes, this thought did cross my mind,” Eldara admitted.

“I’ve still got to learn many things,” Wolfram said, grinning at the window. Karela was talking to Conrart now, Yozak laughing at something. Indeed, what a peculiar relationship.

“You’ve got centuries for that,” Eldara told him. He rounded the desk to return to his place. He took the pen back into his hand but, instead of continuing with the letter, gave Wolfram an evaluating look. He was curious about what kind of man Wolfram would turn out to be in about a hundred years’ time. 

“You know,” Eldara finally said, “if I live at least half as long as you, I would not want to meet you on the opposing side. You have a distinctive and quite unpleasant trait of appearing naïve.”

Wolfram laughed softly. “Yes, I’ve been told that before.”

“That’s your strong point. Weak point, too.”

The blond nodded, agreeing. He didn’t inspire trust at first glance. If he were a commoner, he would have to work much more than other people to reach his goals. Since fate had been kind to him, he had authority because of his birthright – they had to follow his orders without questioning his decisions.

“I should marry him off soon,” the duke finally said.

“Karela Ine? To a woman?”

The duke smiled, nodding. “Of course, to a woman. A child or three would get him tied for good. I know a few potential brides. I will also talk to his mother. Maybe she has someone in mind or can offer some advice.”

“Hmm…” Wolfram hummed quietly. “Won’t he feel insulted?”

“Insulted?” Eldara chuckled. “He should feel honored. It’s not your everyday a commoner gets a chance to marry one of those women: good reputation, wealthy, pretty. Besides, I would not skimp on their wedding present – a house somewhere close would be ideal.”

“In other words, you would pretend you’re doing him a favor, so that he could not refuse it,” Wolfram concluded. “But he would hate you.”

“It would be a favor,” Eldara said. “A favor for both of us. He would marry, settle down, live a happy and fulfilling life with his children, who should be no less beneficial to this country.”

“Or be miserable and pitiful with a wife he hates and children he can’t stand and life he doesn’t want to live,” Wolfram said, with his eyebrows raised. He, however, could imagine Ine as a family man. Maybe the duke would really be doing him a favor. It was difficult to say; Eldara knew his captain better. “So you would not allow either him or his offspring to leave Raizgad.”

The older man watched Wolfram thoughtfully. The nobles in Shin Makoku were much more lenient with their subjects. Von Bielefeld had been raised in a different environment, had probably been purposely sheltered as well. Von Voltaire and von Christ had avoided dragging him into all the dirty business. Yet, no matter how much they treasured Wolfram, they shouldn’t have done that. Wolfram had von Bielefeld House to take care of in the future. 

“If he told me directly that he wanted to leave, I would not force him to stay,” Eldara said. “I know, however, that he would never request that of me.”

Wolfram nodded. Of course, the captain would never do that. “Do you intend to marry?” he asked Eldara.

The duke nodded. “Of course. You’ll marry as well. Both of us need to have heirs. You, however, will probably marry a man first. I can’t see you ever being interested in a woman.”

“Neither do I,” Wolfram agreed. He gave Eldara a curious look. “Do you like women?”

Eldara chuckled. “Men, women, I like both. Women are more troublesome, though. I can’t force myself to be strict with them. You’ve seen Halea – she does and says everything she wants.”

“Well, she’s not your problem anymore but von Sarda’s.”

“Poor fellow,” Eldara grunted in sympathy.

“It would be interesting to see you and your wife visiting Shin Makoku,” Wolfram said, amused. “I would be able to tease you to my heart’s content.”

“Horror of horrors,” Eldara laughed. “I will probably end up having no less than five children.”

“Do you like children?”

Eldara nodded. “I do.” 

“Hmm… I don’t particularly care for children. They are annoying.”

“You’re too young for that yet.” Suddenly, Eldara burst out laughing. “I can already imagine all the drama you’ll have to go through to have an heir.”

Wolfram shuddered. “So do I.”

****

oOo_A Week Later_oOo

When Wolfram reached Eldara’s study, there were already many people inside, almost the entire household, even Fredrick and von Luana’s eldest son were there.

“What’s going on?” Wolfram asked. Normally, Eldara didn’t gather people up in his study out of the blue.

Conrart shrugged. He knew it was serious – just a few minutes ago he had seen the duke’s advisors leave the study and there was a notable stir amongst the castle guards. He had an uneasy premonition that Raizgad was under attack. He turned to the window behind which the two guards rushed past. He met Yozak’s eyes and it was obvious that the captain shared his thoughts.

About fifteen minutes later, the duke with Karela and a few other guards in tow entered the study.

“The whole country is in civil war,” he announced while walking to his usual seat behind the desk. “Orinth the Fifth is on the brink of death and his sons are fighting for the throne.” He sat down and looked around at the shocked faces.

 

Wolfram was stunned – only a few months ago he had seen the whole royal family enjoying themselves at his and Eldara’s birthday party. They seemed to get along really well.

“Which side are you on?” Yozak asked.

The duke threw the captain a look for omitting formalities but chose not to comment. “On the side of the rightful heir, of course,” he said.

“Which one is that, according to You, Your Grace?” Conrart asked since he knew the word “rightful” was easily manipulated in these cases.

“Ivera von Mandoza,” Eldara said. “I swore my allegiance to him two months ago.”

Conrart nodded. Ivera von Mandoza was the firstborn to Orinth V.

“It would be best to send all of you home right away,” the duke continued, “but the sea’s frozen. I’m afraid you’ll either have to stay in my castle or I can send you to the Duke of Arklend. I can’t promise, though, that you’ll be any safer there than here. The roads are already unsafe to travel as well.”

“We are staying here,” Conrart and Yozak said nearly at the same time. The castle and its premises stood on a high hill surrounded by lakes. Currently, they were frozen but it was doubtful that the ice could hold a large number of men. The castle also had the modern system of defensive turrets and could withhold a siege for a few months.

“Fine,” the duke said with a nod. “I’m leaving Karela in charge of the troops in the castle and the town.” 

“Where will you be going?” Wolfram asked.

“I’ve received orders to help quench the resistance in the dukedom of Lasker. I’m departing as soon the men are ready.”

Wolfram’s eyes widened. That was only thirty kilometers away. “Ah, we…” he started saying. 

“I’d not advise you to get involved,” Eldara said, raising his hand.

“I don’t see anything wrong with helping the rightful heir,” Wolfram said meaningfully. “Especially under these circumstances.”

Eldara nodded. “Yes, if he and his followers win, he’ll be grateful for Shin Makoku’s support. However, in case of his brother’s victory, you may worsen the ties between the two countries.”

“We don’t have that much of…” Wolfram started protesting.

“Is it known which noblemen are in support of which prince?” Yozak asked.

“More or less,” Eldara answered hesitantly. “Some are still wavering about which side to pick. Others are breaking their oaths as we speak. Arklend, Medran, and Hadel are in favor of Ivera von Mandoza. Your father as well,” the duke added meaningfully with a look at Fredrick. Even if he wanted to support the other side, his ties with Raizgad did not allow him.

It was dangerous for the civil war to last long. The neighboring countries might try and take over Kardera. Kardera, though, had only two land neighbors, both of which weren’t capable of invading Kardera since they had been exhausted by recent wars against each other. Much stronger forces lay beyond the sea, which was frozen and dangerous to travel, thus, until spring it was highly unlikely to be attacked from there.

“After overtaking Lasker, I may need to advance further,” the duke was saying. He turned to Karela. “While the troops will be away, the random robber attacks on the villages will intensify. However, don’t rush to leave the castle. If things get worse, send a message to von Sedera or von Akamosh – if they can, they will send their men over. They, however, may also ask for help of some sorts. If it is possible, you have my permission to cooperate with them. Try to avoid contact with Markez von Mandoza’s followers.”

Karela nodded. “Understood.”

Not even half an hour had passed, and the duke and his men could be seen departing from the castle. Horses were carrying warm clothing and sleeping bags with food supplies. The rest of the troops were being gathered outside the town walls. The troops would have to stay in at the housings of the duke’s subordinates. It was not going to be an easy task to accommodate so many men. Wars in winter took their toll on everyone.

Nervously, through the window in one of the halls, Wolfram watched the party leaving the yard. About three hundred men were left behind to defend the castle and about the same amount was going to be gathered down in the town. 

When the duke and the guards disappeared out of sight, Wolfram left the window. His eyes met Conrart’s. By a strange twist of fate, they became the guards of the town and its surroundings.

“I doubt he’s given an oath,” Yozak muttered. “Markez von Mendoza is a religious lunatic while von Ashiras aren’t known for being religious.” He turned to Wolfram. “You’ve seen how diverse and rich the town is in religions. Basically, the von Ashira House doesn’t care who prays to what as long as there’s no trouble. Thus if Markez took over the throne, the von Ashira House would lose favor and a lot of privileges. There’s also the matter of the neighboring dukedoms. Von Sedera sided with Ivera, and it is in best von Ashira’s interest to stick with Arklend. The two dukedoms have always had close and friendly relationship.

“How dare Markez declare himself the king?” Wolfram wondered. “He’s second-born. If this happened in Shin Makoku, his head would already be on a stake.”

Yozak chuckled. “Indeed. Well, maybe not now, since we have such a lenient Majesty.”

Wolfram grunted. “His Majesty Shibuya has got to learn many things yet.”

Conrart gave Wolfram a look as if telling him that even if that was the case, it was not his place to teach the king anything. Realizing that his thoughts were clearly seen on his face, Conrart shifted awkwardly, but Wolfram only laughed softly at him. 

“I asked around,” Yozak continued, “and it seems that Markez accused his brother of poisoning their father to accelerate the process of inheritance. He also accused his brother of treason to their one and only god Agaeman; seems that they are quite fond of it in the capital and quite a few religious institutions and noblemen support him. Personally, I think it’s just because he promised them gold.”

“Did Ivera really poison his father?” Wolfram asked.

Yozak shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe he did, but I doubt that. The throne is his legally, why all this unnecessary trouble? But then, some people just can’t wait.”

**oOo_Two Weeks Later_oOo**

The duke and his troops had been away for two weeks when the news of Orinth V’s death reached Raizgad. The unrest in the country intensified even more. The country was in chaos. The other news that reached Wolfram and others were good, though. The duke, as he had been ordered to do, quenched the resistance in Lasker. The Duke of Lasker had been proclaimed a traitor and, in the name of the rightful heir, beheaded. His son took over. Aided by the leftovers of the Lasker’s troops, Eldara moved deeper into the country. It was risky to leave Raizgad open, but, to reach it, the enemy had to pass the neighboring ally dukedoms of Arklend and Akamosh.

ooOoOoOoo

During breakfast a breathless soldier was let into the dining-room.

“Ruan has been raided, sir, and the city guards are asking for permission to pursue the bandits,” he blurted in one sentence and continued gasping for air.

“Send fifteen men to investigate,” Karela ordered, leaving the breakfast table. “Once caught, confiscate and return the goods. Hang them in Armidar Square as an example for others.”

“Yes, sir,” the soldier saluted and turned to go.

“Where are you going?” Conrart asked when Wolfram stood up.

“I’ll go with him,” Wolfram said, grabbing a few sandwiches off the table and rushing after the soldier.

“Wolfram!”

Conrart and Yozak met each other’s troubled looks, jumped to their feet and rushed out of the dining-room. With a sigh, Karela headed to the door as well.

“Will you prevent him from leaving?” Athara asked the captain hopefully; his brother was not going to be happy with the news of his precious blond wandering around in danger.

“I can’t, Sir,” Karela said irritably. “It’s up to him and his suite what they do.” The only one who had the actual authority to forbid Wolfram from doing what he wanted was Athara. The youngest von Ashira, though, didn’t even realize that. Karela smiled bitterly. Wolfram’s and Athara’s positions were about equal, but Athara was no match for Wolfram. 

Karela turned around in the doorway. “It’s alright, Sir,” he said, taking pity on the young man. “There’s no real danger to him if he goes with his bodyguards.”

When he reached the yard, Yozak was already dishing out orders left and right. There were even a few castle guards that were getting ready to join the party. The messenger who had informed them about the attack was milling about, not certain what he was supposed to do.

“You’ve caused quite a stir,” Karela told Yozak. He motioned for his men to gather around. Karela chuckled when Yozak gave him a guilty look. “Von Bielefeld is quite a handful. I know, I know.” He turned to his men. There were only six of them since the others hadn’t heard the news yet. “There’s been a raid in Ruan. Von Bielefeld is forming a party to pursue the bandits. Any volunteers?”

All six men raised their hands. With the messenger and Wolfram with his men, this made sixteen altogether. Karela saw the party out of the yard and returned into the castle. The men had been bored and now their need for retribution burned intensely. This should take care of their craving for action. 

TBC


	36. Part 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Kyou Kara Maou! – It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I’m not making any money from writing it.  
> Warnings: yaoi (male x male), violence, swearing, angst, drama. Wolfram-centric, out of character, original character.  
> Summary: With Yuuri’s upcoming birthday, Wolfram makes his decision. Where will it lead him and what is to become of them? Should eventually be Yuuri x Wolfram.  
> A/N 1: Yuuri – 18 years old. Wolfram – 21. Eldara – 32. Halea – 20. Athara – 18. Gwendal – 54.  
> A/N 2: Greta doesn’t exist.  
> A/N 3: European/American/Japanese standards all at once depending on the plot requirements.  
> A/N 4: A tendency to ignore the anime/manga and supplement the story with my own imagined facts.   
> A/N 5: Season III is not taken into consideration, except for the fact that Wolfram’s uncle exists.  
> A/N 6: The umlaut in Gunter’s name is a bother.

**Bloom**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by bishie82

Part 36

Black tufts of smoke could be seen rising from afar. When the party reached the village, they were met by the sight of burnt houses and huts. Only few dwellings had escaped the fire. Some walls were still scintillating in the cold wintry air. Corpses lay on the snowy, arrow-straight street. Children could be heard crying.

At first, the survivors fled, then their panic stricken minds recognized the uniforms with von Ashira coats of arms and they started gathering from behind nooks and corners. Anger, fury and groans filled with pain and misery echoed in the air. There were mostly women, old people and children in the village, men having marched out with the duke to Lasker.

“That way!”

Wolfram turned his head in the direction a furious woman was pointing at. It was going to be easy to follow the trail in the snow, as long as it didn’t start snowing.

“They went east!” added a girl no older than seven.

“Kill those bastards!”

“Pull their eyes out!”

“How many are they?” Yozak asked.

“Seven. They went that way!”

“Weapons?”

“Axes and a crossbow,” an old man said from behind the gathering crowd. Slowly, he started making his way forward. 

“Are you the elder of the village?” Yozak asked.

“Yes, Sir. They left about two hours ago. They won’t be fast with all the loot, and the hove prints will be deep.”

Yozak nodded. He motioned for the men to gather up and urged his horse towards the midst of them. “Let’s go.”

“Stay with them and help them take care of the wounded,” Wolfram told Conrart. He turned to the duke’s men that had followed him. “You, and you,” he said, pointing. “Stay as well.”

“Wolfram…” Conrart started saying.

The blond raised his hand, indicating, that he was not going to discuss this.

They rode past the houses. Most of the food supplies were stolen, and with no place to live, the people were going to starve and freeze to death. If there were more men, they could go hunting but, as it was now, the best they could do was to set snares. Certainly, neighbors or neighboring villages would accept them but to feed additional mouths would be a great hurdle for all to overcome.

They reached the end of the village, and Wolfram turned his head to the side where a young girl was trying to revive an old woman, who was probably her grandmother. There was a bloody smudge extending from under the old woman’s back. The snow around them was soaked with red. She probably had been hacked while she had been unsuccessfully trying to defend her granddaughter’s honor. The girl was hysterical, her face puffed out both with tears and bruises. 

The gruesome sight disappeared behind the ruins of their house, and Wolfram urged his horse forward to catch up with the others. At the sight of the familiar uniforms, a few women had appeared from the forest and ran to them for help. They were sent back to the village, where they still had to see the whole extent of the damage that the settlement had undergone.

Just as expected, it was easy to follow the trail. The hove prints in the snow were clearly discernible and only the increasing afternoon winds were threatening to erase the tracks. The trail led deep into the forest. There were many firs and pines. And, even though many trees were leafless, there were still enough places to hide. They had to find the bandits before it became dark. They had two or three hours of sunlight left.

Wolfram had taken two earth-wielders with him. He was soon informed about a group of heavy bodies in the west. Hoping that it was not a herd of moose or deer, the party sent out scouts and turned west.

It appeared that the bandits had an underground bunker that was guarded by a lookout. After he was quietly removed, Wolfram’s men started searching for the entrance. They found it fast, but Wolfram didn’t allow anyone to open the trapdoor.

“Just smoke them out of there,” Wolfram told his earth-wielders. He didn’t want to put his men in danger. “Kill them at once if they resist.”

The men jumped off their horses and pressed their palms to the snowy moss. The ground started shaking, lumps of it jumping into the air, spitting out fountains of snow and moss. Screams and terrified neighing rose from under the ground. Suddenly, the trapdoor opened and a man shot out of it. He stared at the uniformed men then turned and ran. He was caught by a spear of ice in the back that had been thrown by one of Wolfram’s men.

Some fled and were killed, others died squashed by the lumps of earth. When it was clear that all of them were dead, the earth-wielders removed the soil from the bunker and the stolen goods were recovered. Six horses, albeit very scared, appeared to be unscathed. 

Amazed, Yozak was walking around the contours of the bunker, wondering how long it had taken to dig out such a large construction without the assistance of earth-wielders. He turned his head at a yelp and a loud curse one of his men spat at a horse that had kicked him. They were walking the beasts around, trying to calm them down.

“Broke anything?” he asked, concerned.

“No, sir,” Morgan spat, rubbing his throbbing leg. “Why don’t I just kill it and make some nice roast back in the village?”

“Horse meat?” Yozak’s head swung back and forth while considering the idea. Morgan Hurbert had quite an annoying trait of never making it clear when he was joking or being serious. His cheerful demeanor was deceiving, but Yozak felt that they were kindred souls. Morgan was a very peculiar man, a very dangerous man that wielded air masterfully and was deadly with his sword. There had been some resistance from the higher ranks before he was accepted into the Elite Guards. Morgan, however, had proved himself to be extremely loyal to the von Christ House. And, despite all the gloomy forecasts, he appeared to get along well with fellow guards. There was a rumor floating that he was a bastard son to Emanuel von Christ, but that was probably only a rumor. 

“Do you intend to carry it all the way back to the village?” Yozak chuckled, amused. “No, we keep it alive. We might need it later. Who knows how long this situation will last,” he added not in such a cheerful voice. There had been a time when he had to survive on rats and lizards.

“Right you are, sir,” Morgan agreed without a fuss. He watched the captain ride up to von Bielefeld then turned away and rubbed his leg again. His leg hurt, and he motioned for one of Ine’s men to take the accursed horse over. His silent request was accepted without a complaint and he limped to a tree to lean against it and wait for the pain to subside.

“What do we do with the corpses?” Yozak asked Wolfram while staring at the pile of dead bodies. “Ine said they were to be hanged.”

“They seem pretty well hanged to me,” Wolfram said, turning his horse around. “Just leave them for the animals to feast on. The winter’s been pretty harsh.”

“It’s not really good for them to get used to human meat,” Yozak advised the younger man. “They may start attacking random villagers.”

With a sigh, Wolfram turned around. He snapped his fingers and the pile of dead bodies flamed up. “Happy now?”

Yozak nodded. “Almost, Karela will be pissed we didn’t hang them in the square.”

“You deal with him.”

Yozak sighed. “It doesn’t really go that way.”

They reached the village when it was already dark. Now there were more people gathering around the fire in the middle of the village. At the sight of an incoming group of riders, some of them fled again. Most though, who were calmed down by the elder, stayed. Yozak and the others took the bags off their horses and carried them to the fire for the villagers to sort them out. Combined cheers and curses erupted from the people. The people then rushed to the bags in hopes of recovering their goods, but a swish of air stopped them. Yozak gave Morgan a thankful nod and motioned for the elder to approach. If not handled carefully, this might turn into a riot. Many times he had seen people lose their minds when flocked together into mobs. Leaving Morgan and the elder responsible for the redistribution of the goods, Yozak went to see how the other men were doing.

“How are things on your end?” Yozak asked Conrart, who was busy bandaging an old woman’s hand further down on a bench.  
“We sent for a doctor in the neighboring village,” Conrart answered. “I tried talking them into returning to their homes to warm up and calm down, but they are too worked up.”

“I’d be worked up too,” Yozak spat. “What homes? Half of them don’t even have homes anymore. Damn, I’d be worked up enough to go into the woods and skewer them one by one.”

“All of them dead?”

“We killed all we could find.”

Conrart nodded. “No trouble?”

“None whatsoever.”

“He said they were to be hanged.”

Yozak gave Conrart a morose look. “I know perfectly well what he said, but Wolfram’s orders were clear, too.” 

“Oh, boy.”

“You can say that again.”

Wolfram looked around through the recovering village. His eyes set on the same raped girl, who was still kneeling at her dead grandmother’s side. She was wearing a coat now and they had been moved to the fire so as not to freeze but there was a muddle of blood mixing with water underneath them. Wolfram turned to give the elder a questioning look. The man had trouble walking and had to always use a stick but he immediately rushed over.

“Sir, we tried to get her into a house to warm up but she keeps screaming and fighting,” he explained quickly.

“I’m afraid something got addled in her head, Sir.”

Wolfram stared at him then called for Yozak. “What’s he saying?”

“No surprises here,” Wolfram muttered when it was translated to him. “What’s her name?”

“Amaljea Oilira.”

Wolfram tried to repeat the name but gave up without even reaching the surname. Wondering if he was doing the right thing, he turned to his guards. “We will take Ana to the castle. Tie her up if needed.”

“Taking her there by force will only make things worse,” Conrart protested.

“It probably will,” Wolfram agreed. “Do you want to leave her here to freeze to death?” He saw his brother’s lips press into a tiny dash but heard no protest.

Finally, at about nine in the evening, Wolfram decided that there was no reason for him or his men to stay in the village any longer. They thought that they’d really have to tie Ana up but Yozak’s deft fingers pressed against her carotid artery and she immediately slumped down, motionless. Yozak was also the one who got the troubling task of carrying Amaljea all the way to the castle and make sure she didn’t escape.

Before leaving, Wolfram took the elder further away from the fire and pressed five gold pieces into his hand.

“Make sure you use them wisely,” he said. With his head, he motioned for Conrart to translate. “I’ll visit your village again to see what has become of it.”

The elder pressed his fingers into a fist around the coins and gave a deep bow. “I won’t disappoint you, Sir.”

Von Bielefeld smiled at him, his eyes hard. “Make sure you don’t.”

\- - - 

They returned to the castle past midnight. Amaljea regained her consciousness in the middle of the journey and didn’t stop crying ever since. Once in the castle, Wolfram left her in the care of the maids. Amaljea turned hysterical while the maids were washing her. Only when she was put to bed, half-washed and half-naked, did she cry herself into some kind of stupor and quieted down. 

\- - - 

Sitting in his chair, Wolfram blinked at the doctor and rubbed at his eyes. The blond was wearing a bathrobe and long woolen socks. It was nine in the morning, but he still felt that he lacked sleep. It had to be due to yesterday’s experiences. 

It the early morning, one of the maids was sent for a doctor. And, since Wolfram was responsible for housing the ill-fated girl in the castle, the doctor had come to report to him about the patient’s health.

“Yes?” Wolfram inquired as the doctor was silent.

Roldan shook his head at first then shrugged his shoulders. “Physically, she’s alright. Mentally… The only thing that can help her is time, Sir, time and considerate people around her. It would be best to return her into familiar milieu. She’s experienced a huge shock and she’s amongst strangers now, which doesn’t improve the situation at all.”

“I was informed that all of her relatives are dead.”

“That’s very unfortunate, sir.”

“Indeed. She will stay in the castle until further notice.”

The doctor hid his smile and bowed his head. “Yes, Sir.” He was not a person von Bielefeld needed to discuss the girl’s stay with. He was just a doctor and he didn’t need convincing. Who needed convincing were Athara von Ashira and Karela Ine. The blond had housed a stranger without having consulted them. This was a serious breach in protocol. The doctor, though, was certain that neither the captain nor the youngest von Ashira would mind.

With a respectful bow, the doctor left the room. As soon as he left von Bielefeld’s chamber, he was intercepted by a maid, who asked him to visit Halea von Ashira.

\- - - 

“Sir, what do you intend to do with that woman?” Yozak asked Wolfram while all of them were sitting at the breakfast table.

Athara and the rest of the household turned to the blond since they also wanted to know that. Faced with so many questioning and curious gazes, Wolfram felt somewhat uncertain.

“Um… Well, she needs to get better first and then we’ll see. There’s no place for her in the village right now.”

“Will there be a place for her later, Sir?”

Wolfram nearly glared at Yozak. “Of course, there won’t be. But, in summer, when everything starts growing, an additional mouth to feed won’t be as painful for the villagers.”

“Well, she can stay until summer,” Athara gave his permission, “but if the unrest lasts, soon we’ll also feel the consequences. The food supplies are wearing thin everywhere.”

“Yesterday’s robbery will become a routine in the next following weeks,” Conrart agreed.

Athara nodded grimly.

“It would have been a warning for others if they were hanged in the square,” Karela said.

The atmosphere at the table cooled considerably.

“Indeed,” Wolfram agreed when Yozak translated for him. “Such a pity I didn’t want to risk my men’s lives and killed them on the spot.”

Karela Ine rolled his eyes. He had expected the blond would come up with some thrifty excuse as Eldara often did. Wolfram, however, was sarcastically direct to the point. He wondered whether it was worth arguing, and then pretended to be lost in translation. He nodded at Wolfram and saluted him with his glass. A pain in the butt.

ooOoOoOoo

During the next two months all the gravest predictions came true. In order to sustain troops the food supplies thinned out everywhere in the country. Villages and even bigger towns found themselves fighting off robbers. Wolfram rode out many times so as to restore the order and try to catch the bandits.

The whole household waited for Eldara’s every letter with baited breath. Every time it came, it was as if even the walls breathed a sigh of relief.

There had been, however, only one real threat to Raizgad during this chaos. The Duke of Arklend informed the von Ashiras that there was an army gathering outside his borders. The army, though, had never moved past them as it was pulled back to defend the capital. And, five days later, it was suddenly over.

Ivera von Mandoza declared himself Orinth VI and beheaded his brother for treason, killing his sons, exiling the rest of the family and thus ending the almost three-month civil war. The opposing noblemen either were executed or surrendered and were hanged anyway.

ooOoOoOoo

When Duke of Raizgad and his troops entered through the gates of his city, they were met by cheers of the crowding people. The duke was their defender and supporter of the rightful heir to the throne. However, what was most important was that he had returned victorious, even though the ranks of his troops had thinned considerably.

The cheering crowd swallowed returning husbands, fathers, and sons. The army had already been dismissed on their way back, men leaving back for their villages and cities. Now, in the mass of mingling people and continuously crumbling troops, those who weren’t certain they still had anyone to wait for, followed the duke and his bodyguards up the hill and to the castle only to be stopped by the closing gate. They still left with hope that maybe their relatives had been injured and were going to reach Raizgad later.

The news of Eldara’s return had reached the household two days prior and everyone had been waiting for his return. At the sight of her tired brother, Halea ran down the steps and nearly pulled him off the horse. The rest of the household surrounded him, and he greeted everyone with nods and a weary smile. 

“You’ll get lice or fleas or whatever else I have,” he said, bending down and gently pushing Halea away from the horse.

“I don’t care!”

Chuckling, he slid off the horse and threw the reins to one of his bodyguards. He grabbed Halea into a hug.

During the over two-month’s absence, Eldara’s hair had grown considerably and now was tied into a ponytail, using a common rope that probably came from a sack with oats. He was also wearing a few weeks’ worth of mustache. His coat, that he had unbuttoned, and the uniform underneath were dirty, blotched with dark spots. When Wolfram approached closer, he was hit by the stench of sweat, dirt, and blood.

“Your Grace,” Wolfram greeted, suddenly wishing he had ridden out with the man to quench the resistance. The feeling was so intense that he gritted his teeth unconsciously.

“Your Highness,” the duke answered just as formally.

“Welcome back.” Wolfram grinned and was given the matching grin by Eldara.

“Thank you.”

“So what do you want first?” Athara asked his brother. “Food or bath?”

“Sleep,” Eldara answered at once. He looked at himself. “But a bath will have to come first.”

Once inside the castle, Salt, the duke’s cat, met him with unshakable apathy, seemingly without even realizing that his master had been away. Interested, he sniffed and rubbed against Eldara’s boots. The duke nearly kicked the cat when he sprayed his boots to mark him as his territory.

After having greeted the rest of the household, the duke took a long, thorough bath, had a quick snack and fell into his bed. He woke up in the morning, his bladder bursting. After he took care of that, he returned into bed and slept until the evening.

He was just in time to join the rest of the household for dinner.

“Eldara!” Halea exclaimed at the sight of him entering the dining room.

“Slept well?” Athara asked.

“Indeed I have,” Eldara answered. “I was told it had been an entire day.”

Everyone at the table nodded, smiling. Yozak gave an amused look to Wolfram, but the blond stared back into his eyes, daring him to speak up. Wolfram had slept in his own chamber so as not to disturb the duke’s rest. He was even somewhat insulted that Yozak thought that he lacked the simplest of common senses and had attacked the duke, when the man had obviously been so tired. Yozak, however, was right about one thing – Wolfram had spent most of his spare time making plans about usurping the duke’s attention once he had recovered. 

Hungrily, Eldara swept his eyes over the dishes on the table. The assortment was smaller than usual but that was to be expected with the long-lasting unrest. They still had to wait till summer to replenish their supplies. The sea, however, soon was going to be passable again and trading ships would be able to travel.

Wolfram watched the duke clearing plate after plate with unconcealed appetite. Eldara listened to the news and events that were being shared by everyone. It was obvious that Karela also burned to give his report on the situation in the dukedom but was holding back until an appropriate moment. 

The conversations drawn out long after everyone had done eating. Once Eldara showed an intention to leave the table, Halea was the first to approach him. They departed for Eldara’s study.

\- - - 

Eldara climbed into the steaming pool and leaned against the edge. Relaxing, he sighed contently. He had washed the dirt and sweat yesterday, now he hoped to wash off the hardships of the past months. He shook his head and sighed again. He scooped up some water into his palms and splashed it onto his face.

If not a civil war, then it was Halea. Indeed, there was not a moment of peace.

At the sound of the door opening, Eldara looked towards it. 

“That’s a pleasant surprise,” Eldara said at the sight of Wolfram appearing amidst the benches. 

“I doubt it’s a surprise, but I do hope it’s pleasant.” the blond said with a wink, maneuvering through the benches towards the pool.

“It is, it is,” Eldara said, elated. The blond indeed was a pleasant sight to his eyes, which had fasted for too long. During these past difficult months he hardly ever had a chance to think about sex, but when he did, Wolfram was one of those that came to his fantasies.

When he reached the pool with the duke, Wolfram stood at the edge, looking at the other man from above.

“Well? Aren’t you going to get in?” Eldara asked.

Wolfram squatted down to test the water with his hand. “I’m thinking.”

Amused, Eldara pursed his lips. “Isn’t it a little too late to be playing hard to get?”

“Mmm… Wnghargh!”

Wolfram gargled in surprise as he was grabbed by the lapels of his jacket. Instinctively, his hands covered Eldara’s. Then, Eldara tugged him down, and Wolfram’s eyes went wide. Headfirst, Wolfram plummeted into the pool. Spitting and coughing, he surfaced and stood up. Water was running down his clothes in rivulets. Brushing wet hair out of his face, the blond glared at the duke.

“What in the world? How will I return to my room? My boots are wet!”

“You don’t need to be concerned about returning tonight.”

Wolfram rolled his eyes. He started climbing out of the pool. Eldara was tempted to pull him back in but it would have probably resulted in Wolfram painfully hitting the edge with his body.

“Leaving?”

There was a note of disappointment in the duke’s voice. Chuckling, Wolfram turned around and said, “No, I’ll just ask someone to bring me my bathrobe and slippers.”

Once he did so, he returned to the pool to wait for the bathrobe to be delivered.

“So what did Halea want?” he asked, sitting down near the edge of the pool. He started pulling his wet boots off. He heard Eldara sigh. Wolfram raised his head to give the duke a questioning look. “Or is it not my place to ask?”

Eldara shook his head. “It’s nothing. She… Well, it seems she’s carrying.”

“She what? Really? Oohh… But… Isn’t the wedding in summer?”

“Not anymore it seems.”

Pouring the water out of his boots and arranging them on the tiled floor, Wolfram watched Eldara carefully. “You aren’t angry, are you?”

“I… I’m not sure,” Eldara admitted. “I thought about punching Fredrick once or twice, but she’s as much at fault as him. And, frankly, what does it even matter? They were supposed to get married anyway.”

“Indeed. What changes is just the date.” Wolfram grinned. “You’ll be an uncle.”

“Yep, faster than expected.”

There was a knock on the door and Wolfram went to get it. He returned with a bathrobe, draped it over the nearest bench and started taking his wet clothes off. He made sure to put on a show by undressing slowly, but the clothes were stuck to his body. It was not exactly enticing, in his opinion. It was, instead, more like peeling the clothes off his body with wet, gurgling sounds. Halfway through, it became awkward, and he just shed the rest of them quickly. After searching through the pockets, naked, he slipped into the pool. Seducing wasn’t his forte, Wolfram knew that from his experience with Yuuri. Eldara was much easier, though. He could feel the duke’s burning eyes on him.

TBC


	37. Part 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Kyou Kara Maou! – It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I’m not making any money from writing it.  
> Warnings: yaoi (male x male), violence, swearing, angst, drama. Wolfram-centric, out of character, original character.  
> Summary: With Yuuri’s upcoming birthday, Wolfram makes his decision. Where will it lead him and what is to become of them? Should eventually be Yuuri x Wolfram.  
> A/N 1: Yuuri – 18 years old. Wolfram – 21. Eldara – 32. Halea – 20. Athara – 18. Gwendal – 54.  
> A/N 2: Greta doesn’t exist.  
> A/N 3: European/American/Japanese standards all at once depending on the plot requirements.  
> A/N 4: A tendency to ignore the anime/manga and supplement the story with my own imagined facts.   
> A/N 5: Season III is not taken into consideration, except for the fact that Wolfram’s uncle exists.  
> A/N 6: The umlaut in Gunter’s name is a bother.

**Bloom**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by bishie82

Part 37

Wolfram took a sponge from the edge of the pool. There was also a bar of soap on the floor. The soap smelled of chamomiles and, even if he didn’t particularly like the scent, this time it was very easy to ignore. He lathered the sponge and, when he came closer wordlessly, Eldara stood up and turned his back to him. 

“You’ve lost weight,” Wolfram said, touching his back lightly.

Eldara nodded mutely.

The blond started with his shoulders, lathering them thoroughly. Then the sponge slid down the ridge of his back, then to his sides. Wolfram rubbed over the globes of his backside and then between them. He rinsed the sponge and repeated the trail, now washing the soap off Eldara. By the time he was done, both of them were painfully hard.

“What about my front?” the duke asked when Wolfram stopped washing him and just stood behind him quietly. Wolfram had left the sponge afloat in the pool. His eyes followed the sponge, which was leisurely drifting to the other end of the pool. Wolfram pressed himself against Eldara’s back and the duke closed his eyes at the pleasurable feeling of their naked skin touching.

“You’ll have to take care of your front by yourself,” Wolfram said with a soft purr. Almost blindly, he groped around Eldara’s arm then reached his hand and squeezed a jar into it.

Recognizing the jar, the duke chuckled. “Don’t mind if I do, then.”

Wolfram’s foreplay excited him to no end. He turned, grabbing the blond by his waist and yanked him up unto himself. The water splashed around and then their bodies were flush against each other. Wolfram’s eyes dilated. His arms wrapped around the other man, sliding over his back and shoulders.

“It’s been too long,” Eldara complained, attacking the younger man’s mouth.

“Yes, way too long,” Wolfram agreed, almost breathless. He could not remember ever being as sexually frustrated as he had been for these past months. He blamed the duke. His body hadn’t had such cravings before he learned what sex was.

Kiss after hungry kiss, Wolfram was maneuvered backwards until he was leaning against the edge of the pool. He turned his back to the duke, placing his hands on the edge.

“Condoms?”

“I forgot,” Wolfram muttered, breathless.

It stoked Eldara’s lust to see Wolfram so desperate and reckless. It was obvious that the blond hadn’t managed to find a playmate during his absence.

Eldara removed the lid off the jar and scooped up a generous amount of ointment. He cursed his impatience when the cold lubricant made him tense and clench his teeth. Smearing it over himself, he watched the blond’s arched back and his unsteady hands on the stones. He wanted it badly.

A soft grunt left Wolfram’s mouth when the duke’s fingers slipped into him. They rubbed and stroked inside him and he let out a satisfied groan at a few well-placed rubs. Soon he could only follow the rhythm set by the fingers inside him.

The fingers retreated quickly and Wolfram grunted in protest. Then he felt a much larger and blunter object press against his anus.

“Ooh,” Wolfram exhaled when it pushed into him. His hands were suddenly too shaky to hold him up and he had to lean on his forearms. The older man pushed all the way into him without stopping. He felt Eldara’s pubic hair against his buttocks and somehow that made the act even more erotic. The blond exhaled the air he had been holding in.

Wolfram was almost ready to come just from the penetration alone. Grinning to himself, Eldara pulled out slowly just so the tip was inside and pushed back in. Wolfram’s back arched, his buttocks coming up even higher.

“Shit,” the duke groaned at the sight, his hand coming to rest heavily on the blond’s back, pushing him down even more. “I’m going to fuck you raw,” he promised. His lust was clear in his voice.

Wolfram was all for it, even though he wasn’t bold enough to voice his approval. He didn’t have to though the duke could read it all from his body.

A few slow thrusts that allowed Wolfram to adjust turned into a series of quick, short pumping. Wolfram’s high-pitched gasps filled the baths and Eldara’s ears. He suddenly felt surreal. Just a day ago he was on a horse plowing through cold winds and snow, covered in dirt and stench, and now he was buried in a willing body of one of Shin Makoku’s most handsome and influential men. Wolfram had been waiting for him at home like some faithful wife. Wasn’t this what people called happiness? Eldara suddenly felt ashamed of himself.

Wolfram turned his head at a sharp pain on his shoulder. His dazed, lustful eyes didn’t quite comprehend what they saw even though he realized that Eldara must have bitten him. He turned away.

Watching himself relentlessly disappear into and appear from Wolfram’s body, Eldara listened to the blond’s quickening breathing. The water around Wolfram’s thighs was churning and swirling with their movements. The blond was nearly there without even touching himself. He reached around the blond’s waist. The reaction was instant. Wolfram froze at first, then let out a strange sound and thrust into his hand.

There wasn’t even a thought in Eldara’s head about prolonging it. Even if he had wanted it, he wouldn’t have been able to stop.

“Uhh… mmn…”

Eldara watched Wolfram being seized by his orgasm. The shaft in his hand spasmed and squirted.

“Oh…” Wolfram sighed. The voice was relieved and his body was becoming lax. Eldara moved his hand away and the blond slumped against the edge. He would have turned around but he was still impaled on Eldara’s cock. It moved inside him again, and Wolfram grunted, his eyes widening. The duke didn’t stop the onslaught, though. The blond braced himself against the edge again. The next few moments were more of a frustrating, albeit exciting torture. Soon he started getting hard again. The trusts were becoming fast and demanding and it was clear that Eldara was close. Soon Wolfram felt him pull out. A few loud grunts behind him indicated that the other man had come. Wolfram turned around and was pulled into a sloppy, satisfied kiss. 

While they continued kissing, Eldara’s hands roamed around the blond’s body and then settled on his buttocks. The palms squeezed and rolled and then the fingers started groping around the entrance. They slid in, and Wolfram let out a satisfied hum, exhaling into the other man’s mouth. The fingers kept moving inside him and he turned his head aside, trying to concentrate on the pleasure. He soon stared thrusting against Eldara and could feel that the other man was hardening again. Then the fingers slipped out of him, Wolfram felt that he was being seated on the edge of the pool. He figured out what was wanted from him when Eldara pushed at his chest. Wolfram lay down obediently, letting his legs drop at the duke’s sides.

“Is it comfortable?” Eldara asked.

It wasn’t, but Wolfram didn’t care. He nodded quickly and Eldara, in the same quick-pace, pushed into him. Letting out a satisfied sigh, the blond lifted his legs to cross his ankles behind Eldara’s back. This made the other man slip deeper into him and the blond let out another appreciative moan.

“You’re quite shameless,” Eldara chuckled, breathless.

Wolfram grinned and squeezed Eldara’s sides with his thighs. “Is that bad?”

“No, quite the opposite – I love it.”

“Good.”

This time, Eldara took it slowly. He pumped in and out of the blond, making the younger male feel every inch of him. Wolfram enjoyed the slow lovemaking. He was leisurely stroking himself in the same rhythm. They let it build up slowly and when it did, it washed over Wolfram, leaving him breathless, his legs locked around Eldara’s waist spasmodically. He felt a strange rush of something inside of him. He recognized it for what it was and his mouth fell open in wordless wonderment while his body shook with renewed orgasm.

Wolfram’s legs unwound themselves from Eldara’s waist and dropped to his sides. Eldara pulled out carefully. He hadn’t meant to release inside, but Wolfram hadn’t let go. 

The excitement and endorphins were wearing off and Wolfram realized that he felt quite sore. He hadn’t practiced sex in a few months and now was paying the price for having it two times in a row. 

While washing himself, Wolfram considered lingering in the baths to relax, but the duke didn’t agree with his plans, literally dragging him out of the bath. Only Eldara had a towel so they had to share. Wolfram slapped at Eldara’s hands before he could start drying him with a towel. That would have undoubtedly led to another bout of sex or would have just made him feel like a kid or both.

Eldara dressed while the blond wrapped himself in his bathrobe. He took his wet clothes and boots in his hands and followed the duke to his room. Despite having followed Eldara, Wolfram was about to protest when Eldara led him to his bed. Eldara, though, instead of pushing Wolfram down into the bed, started digging around in the bedside cabinet.

“What are you looking for?” Wolfram wondered, thinking what he should do with his wet clothes and boots. After hesitating for a few seconds, he went back to the door.

“Don’t leave yet, will you?”

“I’m not leaving. I’ll just put these…somewhere?” 

Wolfram finally draped his wet clothes around the back of the chair in the other room and lowered his boots onto the floor. Then he returned to the bedroom.

“Here,” Eldara said, dropping a small jar onto the bed. “This will lessen the sting,” he told Wolfram.

“Hmm…” Curious, Wolfram approached the bed. He took the jar and opened it. The smell was that of herbs, the ointment itself was gray. 

“What? Would you prefer me to help you out?” Eldara asked when he saw the blond hesitate.

“Umm… I was just wondering if it’s alright for me to use it,” Wolfram said uncertainly. Some medicine didn’t work the same on Demons or could even be harmful. “I think I can easily do without it.”

The duke shook his head. “It’s safe to use. We’ve already used it before,” he reminded Wolfram of the fact. Eldara motioned at himself. “Besides, if it had any side-effects, I’d have noticed. I usually react to all medicine as a Demon would.”

Wolfram gave Eldara a look. “Von Sedera used to work you hard, didn’t he?” he asked, grinning. 

“No harder than I work you,” Eldara said, laughing. He could tell that Wolfram still found the thought of him and von Sedera together appealing. This was curious. “I normally use this for blisters or minor cuts, though.” 

Wolfram giggled. “Yeah, right.”

“I think you’d like me to help you out with that,” Eldara said, holding his hand out for the jar.

Wordlessly, Wolfram caped the jar and threw it for the duke to catch. Giving Eldara a challenging look, sprawled on the bed with his back to the mattress.

“Won’t you undress?”

“Would you like that?”

Eldara’s brow rose. He tossed the jar back onto the bed, then kneeled on it and leaned over the blond. “I would like many things right now. For you to shut your pretty mouth for once, would be one of them.”

“Oooh, trash-talking? Being aggressive? I like that.”

With a soft chuckle, the duke got up from the bed and started taking his boots off. Once he was done, he looked at the bed again. Enjoying the sight of Wolfram bundled up in his bathrobe, Eldara climbed into the bed and took the jar. 

“So?” he purred, playing with the jar. 

Wolfram gave him an apathetic look. Eldara laughed at his pretence and lowered the jar in order to untie the blond’s bathrobe. He could have simply parted it, but this way was more exciting. He dropped the ends of the untied belt to the blond’s sides and swept the bathrobe aside to reveal the naked body. With the back of his hand he brushed over Wolfram’s stomach. The blond’s stomach muscles tightened at the touch. Eldara lowered his eyes to the blond’s penis that was stirring from its slumber.

“You’re insatiable.”

Wolfram chuckled. “I think you’re talking about yourself.”

“Could be,” Eldara said demonstratively adjusting himself in his trousers. He took the jar again and opened it. After scooping some gray ointment, he rubbed it between his fingers, warming it up. “Spread your legs and bend them a little.”

Wolfram did as told, and the duke climbed in between his legs. He pressed his fingers against the blond’s backside then pushed them in. He rubbed back and forward then pulled his fingers out to scoop some more ointment. When he pushed them back in, Wolfram tensed at the coolness.

“Ah, sorry.”

He rubbed and rolled his fingers inside then started pumping. Wolfram’s eyebrows rose. “Are you planning to make me come like this?”

“You don’t like the idea?” 

The blond tensed at a well-placed rub against his prostate. “Mnn… I’m sure this ointment isn’t meant to be used like this.” 

“Want me to stop?”

“I’ll hit you if you stop,” Wolfram said between soft gasps.

Laughing, Eldara scissored his fingers, making the blond hum in pleasure. “You are definitely going to be sore tomorrow.”

“I don’t think I’ll regret it, though,” Wolfram purred. 

\- - -

Wolfram woke up at about one in the afternoon, and the other side of the bed was empty. He had heard Eldara get up much earlier but stayed in bed. He cast a glance at the grandfather’s clock further away and sank deeper into the bedding. Something scraped and sighed next to him. Startled, the blond turned his head. It was Salt. From the depths of the blankets, he blinked at Wolfram, let out a mighty yawn and settled back into sleep again. Eldara must have let him in. Wolfram looked at the window. The curtains were drawn but he could hear winds banging on the other side of the window. There was a blizzard outside – no cat would want to stray around in this kind of weather.

The blond turned to his side and stroked the fluffy creature. Cool air engulfed his bare arm, but the cat started purring nearly at once. Wolfram pulled Salt closer to himself. It felt incredibly nice to roll around amongst the sheets naked while there was a blizzard seething outside. Eldara had warned him that he might get diarrhea but the blond didn’t have it. Whatever side-effects he might have had, he had slept all of them off. There was a light sting in his lower body but it served as a naughty reminder of the night’s delightful activities. Wolfram was already thinking about their continuation later in the evening. He was certain that he hadn’t felt so good in a while. 

He felt like going for a ride but the weather was dreadful. He felt like galloping at full speed. Sighing, Wolfram scratched Salt behind his ears. The cat was vibrating with happiness. The blond thought that maybe, once he was back home and settled down, he should get a cat. But not white, maybe a tabby; white hairs were easily seen on his clothes.

There was a soft knock on the door, and Wolfram turned to it. “Yes?”

Eldara entered the bedroom. “How do you feel?”

Wolfram chuckled. “Oh, I’m alright. It seems you tired me out quite a bit yesterday.”

Smiling, Eldara went to open the curtains. “I wanted to ask you if you would join us for lunch.”

“Definitely,” Wolfram said. He stroked Salt a few more times, then pushed him away and sat up in the bed. “I’ll just have to dress first. My boots are still wet, aren’t they?” 

Eldara picked up Wolfram’s bathrobe from the floor and threw it to the blond. He nodded. “I put them to dry but you’ll have to look for something else to wear. It will take a few days for them to dry.”

“Tsk.”

“I’m sorry about that.”

Wolfram rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right.”

“I really am.”

The blond got up and wrapped himself into the bathrobe. He tied it and stepped into his slippers. On his way to his room he saw Karela talking to one of the guards. The duke’s captain greeted Wolfram with a soft smile and a variation of a salute. Not certain whether he should feel pleased or insulted by the familiarity, Wolfram reached his room and started dressing.

He was right on time for lunch. Wolfram’s good mood shone right through. It annoyed Conrart somewhat and made him a little embarrassed around Wolfram since he knew perfectly well where the cause lay. He stole a few glances at the duke. One could say many unpleasant things about the man but he was clearly not half-way bad in bed. Conrart gave a helpless look to Yozak, who shrugged him and his fears off with a wide grin. Annoyed, Conrart picked up his glass of wine.

“I wanted to talk to you about this young lady that has been housed here,” Eldara told Wolfram when everyone was done with their lunch. They were enjoying their tea.

Athara gave Wolfram an uneasy look. He had explained to Eldara the situation, but his brother had been displeased about Oilira’s long stay. She seemed to have recovered as much as possible under the circumstances, and there was no need for her to stay in the castle any longer. Currently, she was helping out in the kitchens but there was no need for additional hands.

Wolfram nodded. “Ah, yes,” he said. “I wanted to talk about her as well, but could we do that privately?”

“Of course,” Eldara said. “Let us just finish our tea, first.”

After they were done with the tea, Wolfram and Eldara went to the duke’s study. Wolfram settled in front of Eldara’s desk while the duke took his usual place. 

“It was explained to me under which circumstances she has been housed here,” Eldara said, leaning back in his chair. “Is there, however, still a need for her to be here?”

Wolfram pushed his chair closer to Eldara’s desk and lowered his hands on it. “Erm… You see, there’s quite a delicate situation concerning the issue.”

“Oh?”

“I will be talking on behalf of Morgan Hurbert, one of my men,” Wolfram said. “It seems that he has taken a liking to Amaljea Oilira and I was asked to put in a good word for him.”

Eldara leaned forward as well. He smiled. “He wants to take her with him to Shin Makoku?”

Wolfram inclined his head politely. “With your permission, of course.”

“Mm, yes.” Eldara’s fingers tapped on the desk while he was thinking. “And what does she think of that?”

“Well, I talked to the woman and it seems that she is quite fond of Morgan as well,” Wolfram said.

“Is that so? Can you vouchsafe for him?”

Wolfram gave a firm nod. “Yes, I can.”

“In that case, I see no reason why their wish should not come true.”

“That’s great!”

“There is one thing, though,” Eldara said, his brow rising slightly. “Why didn’t Hurbert himself come to me? What was his reasoning?”

Wolfram chuckled. “He told me I knew you better and that you’d not refuse a request from me.”

The duke leaned back into his chair and let out a disappointed huff. “What a coward of a man.”

“Not really. He just wanted to make certain it works out. It’s not only about him, it’s about the woman too.”

Eldara smiled at Wolfram. “I know. I was teasing you, Wolfram. All of your guards are exceptional people.”

Wolfram rolled his eyes. “Well, there’s still a month or so left till the sea is safe to travel, so they still have enough time to get bored with each other.”

“Or…” the duke drawled with his index finger in the air, “…fall in love with each other even more.”

“Yes, that too.”

“You are very skeptical about love, aren’t you?”

Wolfram shrugged. “Does it surprise you? I don’t think it should.”

The duke leaned forward again and gave Wolfram a look. “But it does. Despite what you feel now, you loved His Majesty Shibuya. That was real, maybe it is still real. So it’s best not to be so skeptical about other people’s feelings, or your own.”

Wolfram’s lips twitched but he stayed silent. “I don’t want to remember that,” he said finally.

“So instead, you try to belittle your own feelings. There’s no surprise in that, but you aren’t being fair to yourself.”

Wolfram sighed. “I want a cat.”

Eldara chuckled. “A cat? Why a cat?”

“They’re fluffy and they don’t require much attention.”

Eldara leaned back into the chair again. It seemed like the serious part of the conversation was over. “Well, that depends on the breed.”

“Does Salt have kittens?”

“Salt? Kittens?” Eldara chuckled. “I wouldn’t know. Kittens usually stay with the mother cat. Salt is just in for pleasure, but I can ask the servants. Maybe they have seen some kittens running around. I’ve certainly seen a few. You should wait till spring – then there should be a new batch of kittens.”

“I would like one from Salt.”

“As a memento? It’s very pleasant to hear, of course, but cats don’t live very long.”

“Neither do horses.”

Eldara had to agree with the blond’s reasoning. “Alright, I promise you will get your cat.”

“Thank you.”

“Is there anything else you want to discuss?”

Wolfram shook his head. “Not at the moment.”

“Then could you, please, ask for Karela to come here? I have something I want to talk to him about.”

“Certainly,” Wolfram said, leaving the chair. “Meanwhile, I’ll go and share the good news with the two lovebirds. I’m sure they’ll be happy to hear it.”

“Ah, Wolfram,” Eldara called before the blond could leave the room, “how about a spar in about an hour or so?”

“Certainly.”

“But do you really feel alright? No…after effects?”

“I’m completely fine,” Wolfram assured him with a smile.

“Splendid. Then see you in about an hour in the training hall.”

“Till then.”

Wolfram closed the door and went to look for Morgan Hurbert. After asking Fajdal about the man, he was told that, very likely, Morgan was in the appointed room with the other guards. 

“Should I get him for You, Sir?”

“No, thank you, Fajdal. I’ll find him myself.”

Wolfram went to the castle wing where his suite and most of the duke’s guards were housed. Once he went deeper into the wing, his nose picked up a subtle change in the air. It seemed that there was a stronger scent of testosterone and sweat. There was even a whiff of unwashed socks, just like he remembered from the fort in Lesa. Somehow, it seemed this was the usual smell to accompany larger groups of men. 

The blond hesitated in front of the door marked as XXII. He regretted not having asked Fajdal which room exactly it was. He knocked and opened the door. There were two men inside it. The two of them were wearing the duke’s colors.

“Morgan Hurbert?” Wolfram asked, hoping they’d understand what he wanted.

One of the men nodded. “Oh, Morgan, yes, yes, Morgan.” He left the room and led the blond to the door marked XXVII. “Sir, Morgan here stays.”

“Thank you.”

Wolfram knocked on the door and opened it. Morgan and three other guards were playing cards. At the sight of Wolfram, they stood up, saluting. Two of them were still holding cards, while Morgan and the other guard had put them down on the bunk bed they were playing on. 

“I would like to talk to Morgan. Could you leave us alone?” 

Once the other three men left, the blond sat down on the bunk bed and took a look at the room. The room was meant for six people. It was quite large, with three bunk beds. At one wall there was a fireplace obviously constructed here before implementing central heating. A small fire was burning in it. There was a pile of wood next to the fireplace.

Wolfram felt that by vouchsafing for Morgan, he had overstepped his own boundaries. He didn’t know the man that well. Naturally, he had asked Yozak for advice and was encouraged. Wolfram’s personal opinion about Morgan wasn’t that great. On the other hand, not many made it into the Elite Guards. Morgan had to have a lot of redeeming qualities. One of them, Wolfram had already seen. He had seen how Amaljea Oilira was afraid and reluctant about everything during the first days of her stay in the castle. He had also seen how patient and careful Morgan had been with her during the past two months. How he had tried to improve her mood and make her laugh. Wolfram didn’t know how exactly it all had started but he could see mutual feelings. Love was a peculiar thing.

“He has agreed,” Wolfram said. He tried to suppress his grin when Morgan rubbed his hands excitedly. “He has also called you a coward, so make sure to, at least, thank him personally.”

“Oh, I will, Sir!” 

“Go and tell the news to your woman,” Wolfram said, standing up. “I’m sure she’ll be happy to hear it. And another thing – don’t ever make me regret I vouchsafed for you.”

Morgan gave him a look. “I promise, Sir.”

TBC


	38. Part 38

Disclaimer: I don’t own Kyou Kara Maou! – It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I’m not making any money from writing it.  
Warnings: yaoi (male x male), violence, swearing, angst, drama. Wolfram-centric, out of character, original character.  
Summary: With Yuuri’s upcoming birthday, Wolfram makes his decision. Where will it lead him and what is to become of them? Should eventually be Yuuri x Wolfram.  
A/N 1: Yuuri – 18 years old. Wolfram – 21. Eldara – 32. Halea – 20. Athara – 18. Gwendal – 54.  
A/N 2: Greta doesn’t exist.  
A/N 3: European/American/Japanese standards all at once depending on the plot requirements.  
A/N 4: A tendency to ignore the anime/manga and supplement the story with my own imagined facts.  
A/N 5: Season III is not taken into consideration, except for the fact that Wolfram’s uncle exists.  
A/N 6: The umlaut in Gunter’s name is a bother.

**Bloom**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Anonymously Awesome

Part 38

Wolfram had missed sparring with Eldara. He had countless willing partners but there was just something about Eldara that made him look forward to whenever they fought. It was probably the flirting. They were serious during spars; each never giving the other an easy way out, but there was just something enticing about the way they strained against each other. There was always the knowledge that their match would continue in one of their beds. 

Just like this time.

Wolfram ducked the incoming wooden blade. Straightening, he pushed it sideways and to the ground with his sword then lashed out with his foot. Eldara staggered backwards and nearly fell over. He righted himself and blocked Wolfram’s sword that was aimed at his neck. He tried shoving it aside, but the blond pushed harder. It was difficult to compete with a full-blooded Demon when it came to sheer strength. Grunting, the two stayed locked for a few seconds then Wolfram gathered his strength and shoved Eldara backwards. 

They circled each other a few times. Wolfram was first to launch an attack. He chopped and jabbed but the duke defended himself brilliantly and counterattacked. Wolfram whirled sideways to avoid his sword, tried to skewer Eldara’s side but was blocked. He was too slow to fend off Eldara’s blow over his right thigh, and his mouth opened in a silent yelp.

“Eight – two, I win,” Wolfram said, rubbing his thigh, trying to soothe the pain.

Eldara nodded. Wolfram was a ferocious opponent and this was mostly a lucky win. It stung his pride somewhat, but sparring against the blond was healthy – he was improving his stamina and reaction time. Wolfram’s however, were still on a completely different level.

The duke went to store the sword in the rack at the door. There were a few claps from the small audience intended mostly for the blond. Wolfram ignored them and followed the duke.

“How about we meet in the baths?” Wolfram whispered, putting his sword away as well.

Eldara couldn’t help chuckling. “I don’t mind, but I’m afraid the baths will be busy at this time of the day. How about we meet after, in my chambers?”

“Agreed.”

“You certainly missed me,” Eldara couldn’t help teasing.

“You bet.”

\- - -

There were two more people in the baths. Wolfram wished Eldara would just tell them to leave, but that, of course, would be out of line. Wolfram took the furthest corner of the baths to wash himself. Even then his wandering imagination made him aroused. Half-hard, he finished washing and dressed in his bathrobe. Holding his dirty clothing in one hand and his boots in another, and hoping that no one would try to talk to him on his way, he left the baths. 

It wasn’t warm to walk around only in his bathrobe and slippers. He reached his room and dropped the dirty uniform at the door for the maid to pick it up later. He took a couple of condoms from his bedside cabinet, milled about for a few minutes then left for the duke’s chambers.

When Wolfram entered Eldara’s bedroom, he saw him lying on the bed with a book in his hands. He raised his head when he heard Wolfram enter. He closed the book and lowered it onto the bedside cabinet.

“No, don’t get up,” Wolfram said when Eldara sat up in the bed. He kicked his slippers off and climbed into the bed. Wolfram got in between Eldara’s thighs and untied his bathrobe. He pushed the lapels aside to reveal Eldara’s hibernating penis. 

Wolfram took a look at the disinterest member and seized it in his palm. Lifting it, he felt it twitch and harden. Eldara’s brow rose when Wolfram bent down to place a tentative lick at the tip. It was a rare occasion – Wolfram wasn’t keen on performing oral sex. Getting ready to be pleasured, Eldara lay down again. 

The younger male’s mouth engulfed the head of his penis, and Eldara let out an appreciative hum. Instinctively, the duke spread his legs wider. Wolfram’s mouth took in more of him while his right hand groped his testicles, squeezing. Wolfram bobbed his head up and down, licking and sucking alternatively. 

Feeling strangely proud of the younger man, Eldara slid his hand into the blond hair and massaged the scalp appreciatively. 

“Feels very nice,” he muttered. He was hard already; his lust building slowly.

Wolfram hummed in response, and Eldara had to close his eyes in pleasure. His ears were filled with the sucking and slurping noises. The tension in his loins was growing, and his hips were undulating out of their own accord.

Eldara was surprised when cool air washed over his genitals – he had expected Wolfram had intended to pleasure him orally till he reached his peak. Wolfram, instead, had leaned away and was giving him a curious look.

“What?”

The blond shook his head. “Nothing. I was wondering where you keep your lubricant.”

“The top drawer.”

Wolfram leaned over Eldara in order to reach the drawer but it was impossible. The duke turned to his side and, after fumbling around with his left hand in the drawer, produced the jar. He wanted to sit up but Wolfram’s palm pressed against his chest, preventing his movement.

“Oh? You’re going to ride me? Feeling a bit wild?”

Kneeling, Wolfram took the jar from Eldara. “That’s right.”

Eldara watched the blond uncap the jar and smear his fingers with the lubricant. Then Wolfram’s hand disappeared amongst the folds of his bathrobe. Eldara reached out for the belt on the blond’s bathrobe to untie it. Once done, he spread the folds aside to enjoy the view of the blond lubricating and stretching himself. 

Wolfram was hard, his jutting length bobbing with his every movement. Not lowering his eyes from the hand between the blond’s legs, Eldara reached out to stroke it. Wolfram let out a content hum.

Finally, deciding that he was ready, Wolfram wiped his fingers, capped the jar and climbed on top of Eldara. This was something new and, eager, but a little uncertain, Wolfram froze above the older man.

“Take your bathrobe off,” Eldara said.

Wolfram shrugged it off and tossed aside onto the floor. He hovered above Eldara then seized the older man’s erection and directed it towards his entrance. After some struggle, slowly, Wolfram sank onto the cock. When Eldara had done it, it had seemed easier.

From above, Wolfram watched Eldara with an uncertain look on his face. Eldara winked at him and gave him a few strokes. Wolfram rolled his eyes and moved a little upwards. The duke’s left hand settled on his thigh while his eyes closed in pleasure. Wolfram lowered himself again, and Eldara’s grip on his thigh tightened. Wolfram rose again, and the duke hummed in pleasure. Wolfram’s position gave him much more freedom than usual in controlling Eldara’s reactions. Seeing them caused a wave of possessiveness towards the older man wash over him. 

Eldara let go of the blond’s cock. His palms slid over the blond’s thighs then to his waist and then back down again. He couldn’t help staring at where he and Wolfram were joined, the blond bobbing up and down. There was a slightly different, domineering air about the blond today, and it was turning him on. Wolfram was even touching him differently. Watching him, Eldara thought he knew how their next session was going to end. 

Wolfram rolled his hips then exhaled loudly when Eldara’s hand wrapped around his nodding cock. The blond leaned back, his palms resting behind him, on Eldara’s thighs. He increased the pace, and the hand on him moved faster as well. They moved in tune for some time, both getting more and more into it.

“I’m about to come,” Eldara warned the blond.

“It’s fine. Come,” Wolfram said.

“Really? But… Oh…”

Eldara’s eyes closed of their own when the blond purposely tightened around him. The duke started coming. It took Wolfram a few moments and he orgasmed as well. 

His breath coming out in strangled puffs, the blond leaned forward resting his hands on Eldara’s stomach. His body was tingling with the pleasure he’d experienced. He was nearly purring. Slowly, he rolled off Eldara and lay down next to him.

“I was wondering…” Wolfram said after a few minutes of silence. “Can I do you next time?”

At first, it was quiet in the bedroom, and Wolfram thought that Eldara had fallen asleep. He turned to the side to look at the older man’s face. The duke was grinning, his body shaking with suppressed laughter.

“I was wondering when you would ask,” Eldara said, chuckling at both the blond’s request and his crude wording. “Took you quite long.”

“So I gather that’s a ‘yes’?”

“Yes, that’s a ‘yes’, now pass me a handkerchief or two.”

Wolfram grinned at him then turned to the bedside cabinet and started opening the drawers.

ooOoOoOoo

“Can you come to my study after this?” Eldara told Wolfram when they were in the dining room, at the breakfast table. “There’s something I need to show to you.”

“Oh?” Wolfram wondered curiously.

Eldara smiled. “You will see.”

Conrart and Yozak met each other’s eyes. There was something official in the way Eldara addressed the blond. They would have to wait to find out what it was about.

\- - -

“I’ve received a letter from Orinth VI,” Eldara said, raising said letter from the desk and showing it to Wolfram. It was unsealed and consisted of a single sheet of paper. 

“Oh,” Wolfram said, uncertain as to what kind of reaction was expected of him. “What does it say?”

“Probably the same as yours,” the duke said, picking up another letter off his desk and giving it to Wolfram.

Wolfram’s eyebrows rose in surprise. He took the letter and broke the king’s seal. The letter had been written in his language. It was an honorable mention and an invitation to the formal reception at the Royal Palace in two weeks’ time where His Majesty would be able to fully show his appreciation for his merits.

“Ghmm…” Wolfram hummed after having read the letter. “What kind of ‘merits’ is He talking about, exactly?”

Eldara opened the top drawer and dropped his letter into it. He closed it slowly. “Don’t be so modest. You were in support of His Majesty from the very beginning. You went as far as to question the legitimacy of Markez von Mandoza’s self-proclamation officially. You also generously shared the manpower in your disposition in order to protect Raizgad. You personally defended it against the bandit raids and, I have no doubt that, if a need arose, you would have also defended it from an invading army. You have also been overjoyed over His Majesty’s victory over the imposter.”

With a slightly sarcastic look on his face Wolfram listened to the duke. Once Eldara was done, Wolfram folded his letter and lowered it onto his lap. “Tell me,” he said, “did you exchange letters with His Majesty?”

“Oh no, not letters,” Eldara denied. “There was enough time for us to talk when we quenched the resistance in the capital. I told him about your support.”

Wolfram pursed his lips. “As the Royal Emissary, I am, of course, grateful for your input into creating ties between our countries. As a friend, though, I kind of want to punch you.”

Eldara smiled. “It’s not worth it, really. I just put in a good word.”

“Indeed. Wait until Gwendal hears about it.”

Eldara chuckled. “He will probably applaud you.”

“Don’t count on it.” 

\- - - 

“So we’re leaving in three days?” Yozak said, just to make sure. The king’s letter scrunched in his hands when he folded it. 

“Von Ashira didn’t have the right to do that,” Conrart said.

“Yeahrm,” Yozak agreed, “but it’s quite a good thing he did. Wolfram thinks so too.”

“Pah! Wolfram!” Conrart said, waving his hands about irritably. “Wolfram doesn’t know yellow from blue when it comes to the duke!”

Not wanting to get any deeper into the sensitive topic that so easily aggravated Conrart, Yozak shrugged and put the letter back into its envelope. Conrart was still dead-set against the duke even though he had reduced his distaste to the minimum when interacting with Wolfram or von Ashira. It was clear that Conrart eagerly awaited their travel back to Shin Makoku. 

Avoiding his gaze, Yozak lowered the letter onto the table. He tapped his fingers on the table surface and cleared his throat. Yozak suspected that Conrart wanted to go home not only because of Wolfram and von Ashira’s relationship but also because of Karela. Conrart didn’t complain to him; never said a thing against Karela-he actually liked the man-but it was obvious that he felt somewhat uncomfortable with their three-way relationship. It was very likely that it was going against his morals.

ooOoOoOoo

“I think we are ready to set off, Your Grace,” Karela informed the duke after having inspected the party.

Out of sheer habit, Eldara cast a look at the curtained window of the carriage, but saw only the castle wall and Salt. It was a cold, frosty morning, but the thick-furred cat was snoozing against the wall, not paying any attention to the men milling in the yard. The duke wished he could take the cat with him. It would no doubt bring some cheer to the almost week long journey to the capital. The cat, though, not being used to travelling, likely wouldn’t handle the journey well.

“Let’s go, then,” Eldara ordered, and Karela disappeared out of the window. 

The captain repeated the order, and the carriage set in motion. Wolfram, who was sitting opposite the duke, looked through the window to see them pass the gate and then start heading downhill. Despite being a noble just like the duke, he wasn’t used to carriages, especially such long journeys in them. He wondered if he was going to last long in this one – sooner or later carriages made him motion sick. He had made certain there was a free horse in the party that he would be able to use.

The party consisted of eighteen people including Wolfram and the duke. Wolfram had taken six men, including Yozak and Conrart while the rest of the number belonged to the duke. This time, Eldara had also taken Karela with him, leaving Raizgad to be looked after by his brother. Wolfram wondered what motive of such an act was and came to the conclusion that it not only put the duke in his brother’s good graces but also gave Karela, Yozak and Conrart the chance to spend more time together- whether it would improve or damage their relationship remained to be seen. Eldara probably saw their relationship as a fun experiment and was curious to see how it would end up.

The duke’s carriage was warm. It was designed to travel in cold weather and was upholstered with a warm and wind-proof lining. They had also taken a considerable amount of blankets. [I didn’t know what plaids meant in this context so I cut it out. I was aware that they were a design but not a physical thing. I could be wrong though ^_^]

“It’s good that it hasn’t been snowing much lately,” Wolfram said.

“We would have taken a sleigh, then,” Eldara said, eyeing Wolfram’s winter hat with ears. No matter how many times he saw it, he still couldn’t get used to the sight of a grown man wearing such a headpiece. 

“And would have frozen to death from the wind and sitting motionless.”

“Very likely, but it would have been faster.”

Wolfram looked out of the window to see the town passing by. A week of sitting about in a carriage? No, he wasn’t even going to last a day. He already wanted to be up on a horse. How could Eldara stand staying in one of these things?

“You should have taken your cat with you.”

Eldara chuckled. “I thought about it. I don’t think he would have been happy about it, though.”

“Who cares about him? At least we would have had something to do in here.”

“You are a real animal lover,” the duke said sarcastically.

“I’m getting motion-sick already.”

“So soon?”

“Not sure. But I think I‘m starting to feel it.”

Eldara rolled his eyes. “I think being idle is making you sick, not motion.”

“Could be,” Wolfram agreed. “When will we reach the tavern?”

“We have just set off, Wolfram.” Eldara watched Wolfram sigh and stare through the window. “How will you handle the journey back home on a ship?” 

“Badly. Very badly.”

“Seems so.”

“Maybe I should try out some sleep inducing medicine? I can’t stand the sea.”

“Basically, you can’t stand anything that moves.”

“As long as I’m inside that moving thing, yes.”

Eldara chuckled. “Just tell me when you can’t stand staying in here.”

“Oh, I will.”

\- - -

The sky started darkening at about five o’clock. By the time the party reached the tavern, it was pitch black. It was situated on the outskirts of a town called Rambast. While they were climbing off their horses, Yozak explained to Wolfram that it meant “rich in sheep”. 

“Are we still in Raizgad?” Wolfram asked him.

Yozak nodded. “Yes. There are still about ten kilometers till the border.”

Two young boys rushed out from the tavern. One of them went straight to the luxurious-looking carriage while the other’s keen eyes managed to discern an important-looking man amongst the men with weird hats. Wolfram threw him the reins and waited for the duke to leave his carriage. When they entered the tavern, the arrangements had already been made by Karela, and all that was left to do was to order some hot meals.

Soon the entire tavern was filled with chewing, slurping men. Wolfram, Eldara, Conrart and both captains were sitting at one table, eating ham and bean soup. Wolfram didn’t know about the other four men but the warm atmosphere and the hot meal was making him pleasantly tired. He felt a little guilty for having left Eldara alone in the carriage, but an hour into the journey he had started developing a headache and he knew it usually indicated the start of motion sickness.

After having tried the ham and bean soup, the party ordered some mutton stew. It was tasty and followed the soup nicely. 

At about ten o’clock everyone went to sleep. There weren’t enough rooms for everyone in the tavern, so a number of men slept in the stables while others shared beds. Karela had asked the duke beforehand about the arrangements, and was informed that he and Wolfram intended to share a room. 

Settling more comfortably in the bed, Wolfram sighed. He felt warm and pleasantly tired. Eldara’s hand slid over his waist and the blond’s eyes opened to give him a questioning look. It was completely dark in the room so Eldara didn’t see it.

“Interested in some action?” Wolfram asked. “Aren’t you tired?”

“Well, I didn’t spend an entire day on a horse.”

“But I have.”

The hand on the blond’s waist slid down to pat him on his bottom. “Yes, indeed. Still, I expected your youthful enthusiasm to prevail.”

“Well, it has,” Wolfram said while reaching out to brush between Eldara’s legs with his knuckles. “As long as it’s nothing too fancy.”

Eldara’s hand reached out past the blond’s to grope him through his pajama pants. “Just your regular handjob.”

“How lovely,” Wolfram said leaning forward, his mouth seeking out the duke’s.

ooOoOoOoo

The turrets of the castle were visible long before they reached the capital. Curious, Wolfram stared at the passing houses through the carriage window. They weren’t any different from those in the villages that he had seen while passing through on their way to the capital but these were more colorful. The sludge from the muddy road covered most of them up to their shutters.

The men were wearing different hats from those in Raizgad. Here they were taller and mostly gray, the sheepskin coats thick and long.

Once they rose onto the hill and passed the gate, they entered the castle yard. The castle and its surroundings were encircled by three layers of defensive walls. The first one surrounded the whole capital. The second, curiously, separated the farmhouses and tradespeople from nobility. The last wall guarded the castle and its premises. 

Before they had entered the city, Wolfram had been advised to ride in the carriage to appear more dignified. They approached the castle via a wide road and stopped at the bottom of the stairs. Wolfram waited for the coachman to open the door. He left the carriage first, Eldara following him. 

A footman appeared in the door and rushed downstairs to greet them.

“Welcome to Armalin, Your Grace. Your Highness,” he said, bowing, trying not to eye the unusual hats with ears. “How was the journey?”

“It was good, thank you.”

“Very boring, thank you for asking,” Wolfram said. He couldn’t wait to settle in his room and take a look at the castle, not to mention meeting the newly-crowned king.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Your Highness.” The footman bowed again. “I’m Omira Diaro,” he said. “This is Rigan,” he said, introducing a man that had suddenly materialized near them. “He will show you to your apartments.”

Rigan bowed. “At your service, Your Grace. Your Highness.”

They followed Rigan upstairs and into the castle. He showed them into the hallway then into the hall with double staircases leading to the second floor. They didn’t climb the stairs but turned into the left castle wing with rows and rows of doors. Finally, Rigan stopped, opened one of them and turned to Wolfram.

“Sir,” he said, motioning for the blond to enter.

It was a small but cozy guestroom, and Wolfram liked it at once. Von Ashira’s room was right next to Wolfram’s.

“Send someone for me once you’re settled in, Your Grace,” Rigan was saying to von Ashira. “Lunch is in an hour, but I will bring some snacks.”

“You don’t need to worry about that, Rigan. I am certain that we can wait until lunch.”

“Yes, Your Grace. Then I will make certain that you settle in comfortably.”

“Thank you, Rigan.”

“Maybe you would like to take a bath in the meantime, Your Grace?”

“Oh, I would certainly love that,” Eldara said. “I will inform von Bielefeld about this as well.”

Rigan bowed his head. “Thank you, Your Grace. If you need some of Your clothes washed, just leave them outside your room. Our servants will take care of them.”

“Thank you, Rigan. You may go now.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

\- - - 

The royal baths were about the size of the ones in Blood Pledge Castle. Amazed, Wolfram looked around again. The stairs led down to a huge room, with a dome supported by eight tall, wide pillars. The baths were constructed completely out of marble. There was one large pool, where about ten people were soaking in right now. There was also a row of tubs in front of it for washing the dirt off. There were also two smaller pools. One was with steaming water, probably very hot, while the other seemed to be a salt bath since there was a man floating on his back in it.

Pressing the toiletries to his chest, Wolfram turned to the shelves on his left. Feeling a little out of place, Yozak and Conrart followed him. After storing his clothes on one of the shelves, Wolfram took a towel and went to one of the smaller tubs. There were eight of them with a basin next to each. A wide drainage ditch crossed the baths from one side to the other along the eight tubs. Wolfram sat down next to the first one, filled the basin from the tub and started washing his hair.

“Want me to wash your back?” Conrart asked. He had taken the tub next to Wolfram’s.

“Sure.”

Wolfram, glad that recently Eldara had had enough sense not to leave any marks on him, bent forward to let his brother wash his back. Then he took Conrart’s sponge and returned the favor. 

“Where’s von Ashira?” Conrart wondered while Wolfram was pouring a tin after tin over Conrart’s head to rinse the soap suds off his body.

“I don’t know. He told me to go to the baths and then disappeared somewhere.”

“Aren’t you curious?”

Wolfram shrugged. “Not really. Maybe something happened to one of his bodyguards or something.”

Conrart gave him a look that bordered amusement and irritation. “You don’t believe that.”

“Of course, I don’t.”

Conrart opened his mouth to say something again, but Wolfram motioned for him to follow him to the main pool. The water was just right and the two of them climbed in. They leaned against the edge and relaxed next to each other. Soon Yozak joined them.

“Nothing can beat a hot bath after a long journey,” he said.

“Indeed,” Wolfram agreed with a blissful sigh.

“I saw that Neryan von Sedera is here as well,” Yozak whispered innocently.

“No surprises there,” Wolfram said wondering when exactly Yozak had taken time to snoop around. “He was one of Ivera von Mandoza’s supporters as well. I imagine that many have received the summons.”

“Yeah,” Yozak mumbled. “I saw him and von Ashira talking in the hall.”

“Well, they’ve got things to catch up with,” Wolfram said.

“In a quiet, lovely corner…” Yozak mumbled.

Wolfram rolled his eyes. “You know, if you’re trying to make me jealous, it’s not going to work.”

“And why not?” Yozak was sincerely interested. “By the way, I’m trying to make you angry, not jealous.”

“Oh. Well, that’s another thing. But, honestly, I do believe Eldara has got more class than that.”

Yozak grinned at the blond. “He’s fucking a married man. How classy is that?”

Wolfram rolled his eyes with a sigh. “‘Fucked’, Yozak, ‘fucked’.” Then he frowned at Yozak’s unfading grin. “Well, yes. Not classy at all. Pah!”

Conrart suddenly found himself wanting to say so many things; to comment on so much at once that he could barely contain himself. In the end, he overcame himself and stayed quiet. In his opinion, Wolfram had already taken a huge step in his plan by admitting that von Ashira was not a proper gentleman.

TBC


	39. Part 39

Disclaimer: I don’t own Kyou Kara Maou! – It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I’m not making any money from writing it.  
Warnings: yaoi (male x male), violence, swearing, angst, drama. Wolfram-centric, out of character, original character.  
Summary: With Yuuri’s upcoming birthday, Wolfram makes his decision. Where will it lead him and what is to become of them? Should eventually be Yuuri x Wolfram.  
A/N 1: Yuuri – 18 years old. Wolfram – 21. Eldara – 32. Halea – 20. Athara – 18. Gwendal – 54.  
A/N 2: Greta doesn’t exist.  
A/N 3: European/American/Japanese standards all at once depending on the plot requirements.  
A/N 4: A tendency to ignore the anime/manga and supplement the story with my own imagined facts.   
A/N 5: Season III is not taken into consideration, except for the fact that Wolfram’s uncle exists.  
A/N 6: The umlaut in Gunter’s name is a bother.

**Bloom**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Anonymously Awesome

Part 39

The table in the dining room was set for fifty people. Several chairs were still empty as the celebration was going to take place in the evening thus not all guests were in attendance. Due to the indoor regulations, none of the people present in the dining room had a weapon on them. 

The king was a little over forty, his dark red hair tinged with gray. He was a tall man with wide shoulders and big hands. He rarely smiled, and when he did, it was mostly at his wife and daughters. Despite the general healthy appearance, there was something about him that indicated fatigue. 

Queen Shardana was in her fifties but was still beautiful. She was a brunette with large, green eyes. She looked splendid in her elegant blue dress. Her weighty diamond necklace matched perfectly with her earrings. The small royal diadem that she was wearing was tasteful and didn’t detract from either her face or the dress.

The king’s mother, the former queen, was also present. Teromia von Mendoza wore black from head to toe to show that she was mourning. She supported her eldest son, but her mother’s heart could not forgive him for beheading his brother and sending his family away. She missed her husband terribly and always called his name in her prayers.

Von Ashira was sitting close to the king, next to his daughter Kamilia. Wolfram and Conrart were opposite Eldara. Yozak, Karela and the rest of the men hadn’t been invited and were eating in a different part of the castle. 

Conrart was acting as an interpreter for Wolfram. On Wolfram’s left side sat the king’s youngest daughter, Odela. Conrart was aware of the enraptured gazes she kept throwing his brother’s way. She, however, was not the only one interested in Wolfram. Von Bielefeld was getting a lot of attention from both men and women all around the table. Despite his best efforts, Conrart couldn’t help but shoot a few warning glances towards one openly staring man to ward him off. That had earned him the stranger’s amused grin.

After lunch, Eldara excused himself and went to discuss something with von Sedera. Von Sedera’s wife, meanwhile, floated to the circle of royal hubbub. The king and his advisors had left the dining room first thus now there were just his women left. 

Upon noticing that von Bielefeld seemed undecided about what to do, Rigan offered to show him around the castle. Wolfram accepted his generosity, and he and Conrart went to look around. The brothers were impressed by its size. The incredible number of servants scurrying to and fro was another thing they took note of. There were also many guards stationed by the doors. It differed significantly from Blood Pledge Castle because when comparing the two capitals, Armalin was more splendid. 

Once Rigan had finished showing the brothers around, he led them to the lounge and left them there with the other guests. The king still wasn’t present but his daughters and the queen were. Each of them was surrounded by a small flock of people. 

Not long afterwards, Wolfram found himself talking to the youngest princess, Odela. She asked him how his journey went then the conversation somehow drifted towards fashion in Shin Makoku. Conrart was having a hard time interpreting the unfamiliar terms. Fortunately for Conrart, Wolfram was much more knowledgeable about men’s fashion than women’s and the conversation quickly petered out. 

There were two tables laden with snacks in the lounge, and the princess took her chance to invite Wolfram to try a few dishes. She seemed to be genuinely interested in his reaction to the food, thus Wolfram tried as many as possible. Not everything appealed to the blond but he didn’t show it, instead complimenting each and every dish.

Wolfram was on his sixth snack when Eldara appeared in the lounge. Nodding to his left and right, acknowledging acquaintances and familiar faces, he made his way over to the trio. He knew the princess well enough already so, except for offering a lively greeting, she didn’t pay him much attention.

“Well, aren’t you popular?” Eldara whispered to Wolfram while both of them were reaching out for the same bowl of marinated olives; the princess had suggested they try them – the specially seasoned delicacies were her favorite.

Wolfram grunted in response. He speared an olive and popped it into his mouth. He chewed then his face acquired a peculiar expression. 

“They taste like salted bilberries,” he muttered.

“Is that good or bad?”

“Bad.”

Conrart forked one as well. After tasting it, he had to agree with Wolfram’s opinion about salted bilberries. He, however, didn’t find the taste unpleasant.

“They are like divine ambrosia, Your Highness,” Eldara told the princess his verdict. He impaled a second olive with his fork. In his opinion, they were quite good. Not something exceptional, but not bad at all.

Wolfram nodded in confirmation, agreeing with Eldara. He decided that he had had enough of being a guinea pig and lowered his fork onto the table. A servant scurried over to him and took the dirty fork away. Meanwhile, Conrart took another olive – he was strangely attracted to the odd taste. The princess gave him a pleased smile.

Princess Odela left them to fix her make-up. Wolfram’s shoulders relaxed; he hadn’t expected to have to entertain a princess. Whilst the two of them carried the same title, hers was much weightier, being the daughter of the present king.

Conrart was going through the bowl with olives like there was no tomorrow. Wolfram had sampled a glass of wine off one of the snack tables and was sipping it leisurely. Eldara was aware of curious looks the blond kept sending his way. He had also tried to sniff him inconspicuously. 

“Wolfram, really,” the duke whispered, “I would not do that with his wife here.”

Wolfram muttered something under his breath.

“What was that?”

“I said I wouldn’t put it past you.”

Eldara rolled his eyes. “Oh, Wolfram, really…”

“Hmm…” Wolfram hummed taking a sip from his glass. He caught Princess Odela returning to the room out of the corner of his eye. “Here she comes again.”

“She is one lovely lady, isn’t she?” Eldara said. “A pretty one as well.”

“Well, yes,” Wolfram agreed reluctantly.

“Too bad that she is engaged.”

Wolfram gave the duke a surprised look. “Oh. To whom?”

“To King Ephontus of Motikia.”

Wolfram blanched. “Eh? Aren’t they savages?”

Eldara laughed. “No more than you or me. It’s just that they…”

“They sacrifice people to their gods,” Wolfram pointed out. “First, they gauge their eyeballs out.”

“Well, that’s a disgusting custom, I agree, but…”

The princess approached them and they quieted. Wolfram inspected Odela more carefully. She seemed to be even prettier than before. Now that he knew that she was taken, he felt less reserved around her as well. Her lively eyes met his questioningly, and Wolfram lowered his head. At all times, women of royal blood were mostly used as tools to establish political relations. There was no doubt that the older daughter had already been tied to some big shot for that very reason.

\- - -

When the evening drew near, the servants started lighting candles, and the guests were invited to the throne room. The number of people had grown significantly from earlier on in the day. 

Chairs had been arranged into rows in front of the thrones. A red-carpeted walkway split the rows in the middle and led to the steps and then to the elevated thrones. Everyone took their seats and waited for the ceremony to start. 

The king and his family appeared after everyone had settled down. They walked along the red carpet and took their seats on the thrones. A herald walked forward in front of them and announced the start of the ceremony. 

The first one to get royal recognition and attention, just as everyone had presumed, was the Duke of Raizgad. Eldara left his seat and confidently strode towards the king to accept his award. The king expressed his gratitude for von Ashira’s support during the civil war and presented him with a gold medal. Eldara turned the medal around, read the inscription on the other side aloud then, with a deep bow, thanked him for the honor. He went back down the stairs and the hall burst into a round of applause. 

Wolfram could hear discontented whispers behind him. He couldn’t hear the exact words but turned around in his seat to glare at the people behind him and they were silenced immediately. He didn’t know who they were but was definitely going to find out once the ceremony ended. 

Malicious whispers spurred by jealousy and incompetence were commonplace in the world they lived in -Wolfram had experienced more than his fair share of them. They were his constant and unavoidable companions. Everything had time and place, though. Those two had better watch out, he thought.

His surname was called near the very end of the ceremony. Wolfram rose from his chair and went to accept his award. While walking, he was aware of everyone’s eyes on him. He was glad that he had chosen to wear his common uniform with von Bielefelds’ blue color – he never needed to worry about his appearance when he had it on. 

The king thanked Wolfram for his support and held out a silver medal. Conrart, who appeared next to them, translated for his brother. Wolfram said that he had only done his duty and would do the same a thousand times. He thanked him for his trust and humbly accepted the medal. While Orinth VI was attaching it to his uniform, Princess Odela caught Wolfram’s eye and smiled flirtatiously. Not certain how to react to that, Wolfram kept his face straight and, as soon as the king was done, bowed and went back to his seat.

After that three more names were called out and the ceremony was over. The guests were then invited to have dinner. 

When the dinner was over, everyone was invited back into the lounge. Sofas and tables were moved away; musicians came, and the merriment began. 

Having secured a glass of punch, Wolfram found a quiet corner and settled there to observe the ball. He had spent about ten minutes watching the festivities when Princess Odela found him, and Wolfram felt obliged to invite her for a dance. 

“I’m not a very good dancer, Your Highness,” he warned her.

“That’s alright,” she answered. “I’m a far from perfect one myself.”

For the next half an hour von Bielefeld and Princess Odela became the main attraction in the hall. Envious looks lingered and curious tongues wagged even more than during the ceremony. 

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Wolfram apologized when he stepped on his partner’s foot.

Princess Odela said nothing but instead gave him a dazzling smile in return. 

After dancing awhile, Wolfram and Odela separated for a break. Conrart, who had been watching them the whole time, quickly joined them in case they needed help communicating. In his opinion, though, they were doing great without him.

“Why do I feel that everyone is staring at us?” Wolfram wondered.

Princess Odela rolled her eyes. She was slightly out of breath and was sipping champagne. “Half of them are jealous of me,” she said, fanning herself. “The other half is jealous of you.”

Wolfram chuckled.

“You two look wonderful together, if I may add,” Conrart complimented; he had no fear in saying so since he was informed about her engagement.

They stayed at the table for around half an hour and watched other people dance and talk. Wolfram eyes discerned Eldara interacting with the two noblemen that he had seen before – the same two who had been muttering rude remarks about Eldara while he received his award. Now they were all smiles.

Sensing his stare, Eldara drifted over to Wolfram’s group. He saluted the princess with his glass and nodded to Conrart.

“Those two had just been badmouthing you no less than an hour ago, and now they are your best buddies,” Wolfram said with a disgusted snicker.

“Who? Oh, them.” Eldara said when Wolfram discreetly pointed out the two noblemen. “They are always like that; they’re my cousins.”

“Oh.”

Eldara chuckled. “Yes. By the way, the feeling is mutual so I would not even begin to think of being insulted.”

Wolfram rolled his eyes. “How charming.”

Wolfram and Odela went for a dance again, leaving Conrart and Eldara to enjoy each other’s company. The two didn’t last long together, Eldara floating off in search of a more agreeable companion.

\- - -

“You really did have fun this evening,” Eldara was saying to Wolfram after the ball when they were walking down to their rooms. “I haven’t seen you so content in a long time.”

“It was great,” Wolfram agreed.

“Too bad we are leaving tomorrow,” Eldara teased him.

Wolfram chuckled. “I definitely wouldn’t mind a second ball.”

They stopped at Wolfram’s door. After biding short goodbyes, they split up to their respective rooms and went to rest.

\- - - 

The dining room was filled with the gentle hum of quiet talking. Some guests were still sleepy, others hungover, the rest just wanted to enjoy a calm meal.

Wolfram was eating scrambled eggs with relish. He had a restful night’s sleep and was in a good mood. He caught Princess Odela’s eye and smiled at her. She returned the smile and sipped her juice. Wolfram’s eyes left her and concentrated on the queen, who was offering her mother-in-law some chocolate. The woman turned her head away slightly, refusing, but not before Wolfram saw her glare at her daughter-in-law. Wolfram lowered his eyes and scooped some more scrambled eggs.

After breakfast, everyone was thanked for their support and attendance. The guests started dispersing, getting ready to journey home.

Princess Odela approached Wolfram to wish him a safe trip home. Thanking her, Wolfram suddenly saw von Sedera wink at him; at that moment the duke was talking to Eldara. Wolfram ignored the wink and focused back on the princess.

Once they said their goodbyes, Wolfram and Eldara left the castle. Their men were ready, waiting for them. Wolfram climbed into the carriage after the duke and they set off.

“Why do I feel that von Sedera takes a special interest in me?” Wolfram asked Eldara when they were a few kilometers away from the capital.

Eldara laughed softly. “You shouldn’t let that bother you.”

“But it does bother me.”

“Well, don’t tell him that I told you, but I think he finds you adorable.”

Wolfram sputtered indignantly. “He what?! Why?”

“Um… I suppose he still can’t get over the fact that you socked me and then ran away like a wronged kid.”

“Ugh. That does make me sound childish but not adorable.”

“He adores children, you see. Let’s just say he finds you cute.”

Wolfram rolled his eyes.

“I see the curiosity goes both ways, though,” Eldara said, amused. “You’re no less interested in him than he is in you. I guess that your interests are of an entirely different nature.”

Wolfram felt himself blush lightly. That was true. There was something about Neryan von Sedera that bothered him. It was not exactly the man that bothered him. It was actually his relationship with Eldara. He had caught himself speculating about how the two met, had sex, and then returned to their daily lives more times than he would care to admit. He found it peculiar. Even more peculiar was the fact that Eldara seemed to be to von Sedera what Wolfram was to Eldara.

Eldara couldn’t help grinning at Wolfram’s unguarded expressions. “If you are curious about how we have sex, I will let you try; we have never gotten around to that, have we?”

Wolfram’s blush deepened. “Yes,” he muttered. “You promised.”

“It won’t be the same, though,” Eldara warned. “Far from it, in fact.”

Wolfram tried to fight his blush but failed. “Well, of course it won’t,” he said.

“Just making certain that you know. You may even dislike it. People’s preferences vary a lot when it comes to sex.”

Wolfram kept quiet. He had no experience with that so he wasn’t able to compare. It did make him curious, though.

“It doesn’t seem like we have very different ones,” Wolfram muttered softly, making Eldara chuckle.

“We have a great chemistry, indeed. I must admit I really did not expect that. Then, again, it is always easier with men than women.”

“Really?”

The duke nodded. “Oh, yes.” He thought for a moment. “Well, not necessarily, I suppose. You can be in trouble if you like the very emotional ‘drama-queen’ type – they can be really obnoxious.”

Wolfram nodded. He had met a few men fitting Eldara’s description. He found them disturbing, borderline repulsive even. Their strange mannerisms, which so closely reminded him of a woman’s, confused him. Yet this particular type of man was always seen in the company of other men.

“I suppose it depends on the level of attachment…how far you let yourself fall. I mean, how deep your trust goes. That’s…the question of attachment, isn’t it?”

Eldara eyed the blond. For someone who was so inexperienced, Wolfram had surprising insight. “Yes, that’s probably what it is. I’m more interested in playing around.”

Wolfram chuckled. “And yet you’ll marry one day. And a woman at that.”

“Well, I did tell you that I don’t spurn women.”

“You may be told to marry someone for political reasons.”

The duke nodded. “That could also happen.”

Wolfram thought for a moment. The idea of Eldara marrying someone against his will irked him. He knew that the duke wouldn’t rest until he’d made the most of the situation, but the poor woman who would be ordered to marry him would probably be in trouble. Then again, it completely depended on the situation. Maybe Eldara would actually like her. He couldn’t imagine that, though. Even if Eldara were able to make it seem as if everything had been his idea, in the end, he would not able to lie to himself. He was very territorial when it came to making decisions. There would be serious consequences for anyone who made such important choices on his behalf without his full consent.

“The same goes for you, though. Is what you’re thinking now?” Eldara asked, misunderstanding Wolfram’s silence.

“Oh.” Wolfram shook his head. “No. There is no one who would make that choice for me.”

“Von Voltaire?”

Wolfram laughed. “Gwendal? No, he would never.”

“His Majesty Shibuya?”

Wolfram rolled his eyes. “After what happened to our engagement… Let’s just say I don’t think he would ever even dare to advise me on whom to marry.” Wolfram’s face clouded when he had a vague recollection of his dream about Yuuri giving him away to Neryan von Sedera as a part of some contract between the two countries. He shook his head. It was just a stupid dream.

ooOoOoOoo

After a few days, they reached Raizgad. It was only about five o’clock in the evening, but it was already dark so they stopped to rest in the tavern they had spent a night at earlier on their journey to the palace. They could have travelled further, but the duke had decided against it.

Everyone filed into the tavern and headed straight for the counter to order dinner. They had to wait to be served however, because the owner assigned them their rooms first. He gave out the keys, and Wolfram went to his and Eldara’s room to wash his hands and face. He took his coat and hat off and hung them on a hook next to the door. A few minutes later, a stable boy carrying a towel and a basin of water entered. 

Wolfram was washing his face in the washbasin with lukewarm water when he heard steps behind him. Wondering why the stable boy was still around, he turned but only managed to get half-way before a hand covered his mouth. He felt another hand wrap around his left wrist at the same time. He shifted sideways and elbowed the body behind him while smashing his head into the attacker’s nose. He was almost free but a wave of weakness and nausea washed over him, nearly causing him to drop to his knees next to his attacker. His mind clouding instantly, Wolfram was able to hold onto one fleeting thought – Esoteric Stones. That knowledge was completely useless however, since he couldn’t do anything about it. His skin felt as though it was on fire; it burned so much that it was probably peeling off.

The blond’s mouth was covered again. He struggled to make sense of anything. Wolfram’s ears registered the angry words spoken in fervor but he could neither understand nor concentrate on them. The pain was too much and he was about to throw up. He tried to free himself, but his movements were so meek that they only earned him condescending laughter. Another bolt of panic shot up the blond’s spine when he realized that the attacker was groping the front of his trousers. A wave of nausea hit him and he doubled over. He heard the other man curse. 

The “accident” didn’t change the attacker’s plans and he started working on Wolfram’s belt. Wolfram’s mouth wasn’t covered anymore but the blond wasn’t able to summon any strength to call out; the blinding pain in his chest was choking him. Yet, in a bout of blind rage, he managed to reach out to his fire element. He vaguely felt the attacker move away from him. Turning around unseeing, Wolfram caught the other man’s head with his palm and pushed it sideways with all his might. It hit against something and he felt the opposing body sag with no resistance left. 

Wolfram’s own head was bursting with pain and he held it, trying to somehow ease the feeling and stop the buzzing. The spasms in his chest weren’t ceasing either. Disoriented, he half-crawled, half-staggered in the direction he guessed the door was. All the while he was afraid that the other man would grab him again and drag him back into the room.

The corridor was empty or if there were people there, he simply didn’t notice them. Like a moth drawn to light, he stumbled further, into what happened to be the chandelier downstairs. 

The falling body made the people at the tables closest to him get up in alarm. Yozak was first to rush to Wolfram, who had just rolled down the stairs. At first, the captain could not understand what happened. He thought that someone had pushed him down. He glanced up but couldn’t see anyone. He motioned for his men to go up. 

“How is he?” Conrart demanded having overcome his initial shock; he was trying to push Yozak away from his brother.  
The blond was incoherent and was, most likely, suffering from a concussion. Yozak also noted the faint smell of vomit coming from the blond. He started patting down him down to make sure that there were no broken bones. Someone shoved him out of the way by his shoulders and the captain’s eyes shot to another blue-coated soldier. 

“There’s an Esoteric Stone somewhere,” Morgan explained, grimacing, continuing to push the captain aside unceremoniously. “Can’t you feel it? Move before you get sick again.”

Yozak moved away and, Morgan, who was a full-blooded Demon, turned to Conrart. “Sir? Could you…?” 

They watched Conrart pat down Wolfram’s jacket. Then his hand delved in the blond’s pocket. He pulled out a sizable stone and threw it immediately to the ground, away from Wolfram.

Disgusted, both Yozak and Morgan distanced themselves from the stone.

“Captain, there’s a dead body in von Bielefeld’s room!” one of the guards called from upstairs.

“Fuck me sideways,” cursed Yozak. He turned back to the Esoteric Stone on the floor. “Destroy it, someone,” he grunted towards the soldiers that were milling at the bottom of the stairs; Esoteric Stones had no effect on any of the duke’s men, and he hoped at least one of them would carry his order out.

“What happened?”

Yozak turned to see the duke, who had just entered the tavern, returning from the lavatory. He and two of his men stood at the doorway, alert, trying to see past his shoulders. They moved aside to let one of the duke’s men pass with the stone. Yozak shifted to the right, revealing the blond lying on the stairs. Wolfram seemed to be regaining his senses.

“Someone put an Esoteric Stone in his pocket,” Yozak explained. “He fell down the stairs.”

Eldara’s eyes swept over the tavern. “Someone pushed him? Did he break anything?”

“We’ll see,” Yozak said. He saw Conrart bending down and hefting the blond into his arms. “Up!” he ordered two of his other men, pointing up the stairs. 

Conrart let the guards pass in front of him then followed them. He stopped outside Wolfram’s room. “Is it safe inside?” he asked.

The guards nodded. “It’s completely safe, sir. There’s nothing else inside except the dead body.”

“Esoteric Stones?” Yozak asked.

“We can’t feel any, sir.”

With a nod, Conrart carried Wolfram into the room and, after laying him onto the bed, undressed him. His brother’s body had broken out in a rash of bright red blotches. It didn’t seem like there were any broken bones, neither did he find any more Esoteric Stones in the blond’s clothing. Covering the still dizzy and hardly comprehending man with a duvet, he asked for a basin of cold water and a sponge. Waiting for them to be delivered he went to take the look at the corpse.

Yozak and Eldara were inspecting the dead body on the floor.

“How is he?” the duke, who was leaning over the dead man, asked.

“I think the only things that happened to him are the Esoteric Stone poisoning and a few bruises from rolling down the stairs, Your Grace,” Conrart said. “The blood isn’t his.”

“That’s a relief,” the duke said, standing up. “I’ll tell my men to take a look at this bastard. Maybe someone will recognize him.”

Yozak nodded but gave looked dubiously at the body. The attacker had been twice over: the body was one huge shashlik, I’m not sure what this word means but I’m assuming you’re correct so I’ll leave it) and it was very well-done. Half of his head was missing, the other half was hanging on the wall, on the towel rack just where Wolfram had smashed it. The Esoteric Stone had obviously brought the intruder a false sense of security; he should have killed Wolfram when he had an opportunity instead of letting him get close.

Angered, Yozak spat onto the dead body and turned away. He was responsible for von Bielefeld’s security. All he had done now was come in late and gather up a dead body.

“Clean this shit up,” he growled at Morgan, who had appeared in the doorway.

Morgan grimaced at the morbid sight. “Where do I put him, Captain?”

“Like fuck I care. Throw him into a ditch or something.”

“Language, Captain,” the duke warned. “And no one is moving him anywhere before my men take a look at his face.”

Morgan moved aside to let the duke pass. Yozak rolled his eyes. He turned to Morgan. “Did they get rid of that damn stone?”

“Yes, Captain. Shattered it and buried the remains in clay jars.”

“Good.”

Both of them watched the duke’s men file into the room to try and recognize the man.

“I think I know who he is,” one of them said finally. “During the raid on Ruan I heard someone say there were six or seven of the bandits. We found only six. This is probably the seventh.”

“Cut his hands off and hang him on the gates,” the duke ordered; he had never had any patience with bandits.

Tbc


	40. Part 40

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Kyou Kara Maou! – It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I’m not making any money from writing it.  
> Warnings: yaoi (male x male), violence, swearing, angst, drama. Wolfram-centric, out of character, original character.  
> Summary: With Yuuri’s upcoming birthday, Wolfram makes his decision. Where will it lead him and what is to become of them? Should eventually be Yuuri x Wolfram.  
> A/N 1: Yuuri – 18 years old. Wolfram – 21. Eldara – 32. Halea – 20. Athara – 18. Gwendal – 54.  
> A/N 2: Greta doesn’t exist.  
> A/N 3: European/American/Japanese standards all at once depending on the plot requirements.  
> A/N 4: A tendency to ignore the anime/manga and supplement the story with my own imagined facts.   
> A/N 5: Season III is not taken into consideration, except for the fact that Wolfram’s uncle exists.  
> A/N 6: The umlaut in Gunter’s name is a bother.

**Bloom**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Anonymously Awesome

Part 40

Conrart finished wetting the bright red blotches on Wolfram’s body and lowered the sponge back into the basin of water next to the bed. The room was cold, and the blond soon started shivering, his skin covered in goosebumps. After waiting for a few minutes, Conrart took a towel and dried the blond. He then covered him with the duvet and left the room to let him rest.

Despite the fact that Esoteric Stone poisoning usually passed without leaving any long-term effects, Conrart was worried. Wolfram was asleep, and the rash seemed to be fading but he still looked pitiful.

The local doctor who had taken a look at Wolfram in the middle of the night was only able to tell that his condition wasn’t critical. He had advised them to call his uncle who knew more about Demon physiology.

Before falling asleep, Wolfram had managed to share with them what they already had known – that he had been attacked by a man with an Esoteric Stone. After this information a bout of nausea followed, and Yozak had snatched a bowl off the table just in time. He fell asleep after that.

\- - - 

In the early morning, the local doctor’s uncle arrived and took a look at Wolfram. He said what everyone had presumed he would: Wolfram needed rest until the effects of the Esoteric Stone wore off.

The evening sun was already seeping through the thin curtains when Wolfram woke up. He looked around the room and saw Morgan further down it, sitting at the window and looking down at the street. He shifted in the bed and sat up. Morgan turned to him and left his chair.

“Your Highness.”

“It’s evening again,” Wolfram stated somewhat accusingly.

Morgan shrugged; the time of the day wasn’t his responsibility. “Sir was out like a candle.”

Wolfram’s steps were shaky, and Morgan rushed to his side but was waved off.

“Where are my clothes?”-

“In here, Sir,” Morgan said opening the closet. “Need help dressing?”

Wolfram turned towards the washing basin. “I’m okay, thanks.” He scooped out some cool water with his palms and pressed them to his face. The cold water was refreshing and it woke his brain up. Wolfram scooped up more water and rubbed it on his face. 

“What happened to that man?” Wolfram asked, wiping his face with a towel.

“After he was burned alive or lost half his head, Sir? Or after von Ashira cut his hands off and hung him on the town gates?”

Wolfram gave him a confused albeit relieved look. “I hope at least one of those resulted in him being dead?”

“Only the first two, Sir.”

Wolfram rolled his eyes. “Who was he?” He walked to the wardrobe and took the hanger with his uniform.

“Seems like someone’s brother from the bandits’ band that we neutralized in winter.”

“Ah.”

There was no mirror in the room but Morgan, seeing Wolfram look around, produced his pocket mirror that he used for shaving. Wolfram was only able to see parts of his face but what he did see looked horribly sunken and pale.

“I should have killed him,” Wolfram growled out angrily, giving the mirror back to Morgan.

“Sir did,” Morgan reminded him, taking the mirror.

“Damn him.” 

Wolfram went to the door. He wanted to visit the outhouse, but first he had to get through a load of greetings.

At the sight of Wolfram, the duke and other men stood up from behind the tables. Most of them were having dinner, and the ones who were done drank pints of beer.

“How do you feel?” Eldara and Conrart asked nearly simultaneously as soon as Wolfram reached the bottom of the stairs.

“I’m alright,” Wolfram said. He turned to the duke. “Did you send a message to your sister and brother to inform them that we are going to return later than expected? I’m afraid they will start worrying needlessly.”

The duke nodded. “I wouldn’t call it ‘needlessly’, but yes, I did send them a message.” He took a more careful look at the blond, whose steps were shaky and face ashen. Still, he looked a lot better than he did yesterday.

“Where’s that damn stone?” Wolfram muttered. “I hope you didn’t add it to your collection?”

“It was destroyed, Sir,” Morgan said.

The duke cast him an irritated look for interrupting their conversation without being asked. He was, however, getting used to the strange familiarity that Wolfram’s men treated him with. There was no disrespect in it. It was just a culture thing.

“Well done,” Wolfram told Morgan, who grinned.

A maid walked by carrying a pot of cabbage soup. Wolfram caught a whiff of it and gagged. Eldara grabbed him by his shoulders and maneuvered him outside. Conrart rushed after them. Wolfram managed to hold on until the door closed behind them. There was, however, nothing but bile in his stomach. 

“Are you alright?” Eldara asked when it seemed that the bout of sickness was over.

Wolfram straightened and took the handkerchief that Eldara had offered. He still felt nauseated but nothing came out anymore. He wiped his mouth and pocketed the handkerchief.

“I thought I was,” Wolfram muttered. He turned to the door but his head was spinning so much that he had to rely on the duke to keep him upright.

“You need to lie down,” Eldara said.

“Bathroom first,” Wolfram told him.

Conrart, who had been watching the whole ordeal from further afar, followed them to the outhouse. The duke’s men lingered at the tavern door. They saw Conrart’s back off with amused looks. Conrart, however, wanted no more surprises.

ooOoOoOoo

Wolfram woke up in the morning, feeling rested. He breakfasted with the others though he only had a slice of bread and some water; his appetite hadn’t returned so he didn’t feel like eating much.

“Are you certain it’s alright for you to travel?” asked the duke when Wolfram insisted they move out. He didn’t like the pallor of the blond’s face even though he seemed to be quite energetic.

“I feel fine, Eldara,” Wolfram said, annoyed by his concern.

The duke turned his head to Yozak, who shrugged. “If he says so,” the captain said, shrugging again.

“How about you rest for a day?” Conrart suggested.

“I’m fine. We have already lost a day.”

The men were ordered to get ready and the party moved out.

Wolfram observed the passing town with its people, buildings and the castle in the distance. Spring was cautiously stepping over the frozen puddles and lakes, shaking the snow off trees. The changes in weather reminded Wolfram of his imminent return to Shin Makoku. Wolfram had mixed feelings about this. He wanted to see his family but he was afraid of his lingering feelings for Yuuri. He was frightened of what his reaction would be upon meeting the king.

Wolfram felt fine at first but, a few kilometers out of town, the bread that he had for breakfast started mutiny in his stomach. Rendar kept rocking him as if she had made it her business to make him throw up. About sixty meters later, his stomach gave up and the bread started rising up his throat.

The blond raised his hand and jumped off the horse. He doubled over, heaving. The men traipsed around while they waited. It didn’t last long, and Wolfram was back in the saddle in less than five minutes. They moved forward again.

Conrart was just in time to grab Wolfram by the back of his belt before he could slide off the horse. He had noticed how unsteady the blond had become. Morgan sided to Rendar and grabbed the reins, steadying her.

“Help me get him on my horse,” Conrart said.

“What happened?” the duke asked, riding up to them. He didn’t need an answer as one look at Wolfram’s face told him everything. He turned his horse around. “We are returning to the tavern,” he informed his men. “Might take a few more days.”

\- - - 

“You will have to rest for a few days,” Eldara told Wolfram sternly. They were back at the tavern, in the same room, Wolfram already lying in bed.

“Traveling is out of the question,” Conrart endorsed the duke, for once.

Wolfram gave them a look. “It sounds as if you two believe that I still have the energy to argue…”

Relieved, Conrart laughed. “Don’t worry. You’ll be fine in no time.”

“I hate Esoteric Stones,” Wolfram complained. “And you have a whole collection of them!” he accused the duke.

Eldara grunted. “This again?”

ooOoOoOoo

Four days later, when they finally reached the castle, they were met by the worried household. Only after they had ascertained themselves that Wolfram was alright did they calm down.

The whole party left the horses and went to the baths to freshen themselves up. After that, everyone had a big dinner. Eldara and Wolfram continued to share their experience and impressions from the capital long after the dinner was over. In turn, Halea and Fredrick told them about their progress in arranging the wedding. The invitations for the wedding that was going to take place in two weeks had already been sent and now they were receiving confirmation from those who would be attending. Halea’s health was good and the pregnancy, according to the doctor, was progressing normally. 

“I wish it were men who bore children,” she said scornfully when Eldara asked about her health; she had been vomiting the entire morning.

Wolfram gave her a look while Eldara chuckled. “You would be surprised to know that some men wish the same,” he said, stealing a glance at Wolfram, who blushed lightly.

Halea’s eyebrows rose at the blond’s reaction. It was obvious that her brother was right. The matters would really be much simpler for von Bielefeld if he didn’t need to deal with women when trying for an heir. She suddenly found herself curious whether it would be Wolfram to carry a child or his partner. Amused at herself, she dropped the thought – it wasn’t possible anyway.

“I will go see how von Luana is,” Eldara said, leaving his seat. “Is his hip getting any better?”

“Yes, it is,” Athara said. “He has been trying to walk around with crutches. Roldan says he’ll have completely recovered in a week or two.”

“Right in time for our wedding,” Halea said, squeezing Fredrick’s hand.

“Will you come with me to greet von Luana?” Eldara asked Wolfram.

Wolfram nodded. “Yes.”

Von Luana was overjoyed to see them. He eagerly drank in the news and boasted that, due to his hip feeling much better, he would be able to join them tomorrow at breakfast table. 

\- - - 

“It’s good to be back,” Eldara sighed contently, stretching out on the bed under the covers. The sheets felt heavenly after the days spent in taverns.

“Indeed,” Wolfram agreed with him. He extinguished the candles on the table, leaving one burning on the bedside cabinet on Eldara’s side of the bed. 

By the time Wolfram had undressed and climbed into the bed, Eldara had soundly fallen asleep. The blond extinguished the last candle and closed his eyes. 

\- - -

Wolfram stopped walking and looked around. The walls of the room were covered with red tapestry. The color was vibrant, swirling in circular patterns. The air in the room was warm and stuffy. Wolfram went to the window to open it, but found that it was stuck. He tugged at the handle a few more times but it wouldn’t budge. He headed for the second window at the end of the room. When he was nearly there, he heard footsteps behind him. Before he could turn around, he was shoved forward, against the wall. He hit it with a thud that echoed around the room, bouncing off the red walls. 

Every time he tried to push himself off the wall, he was driven back against it. The man was unbuckling his belt, and, try as he might, Wolfram could not stop him. He started to feel a bit breathless. Every time he tried to turn around and see his attacker’s face he was unable to focus on any features. All he could see was a distorted blur.

A few moments later, Wolfram became aware of soft grunting coming from somewhere on his right. He turned his head and saw a large bed with a naked couple on it. He could only see a red-haired woman’s back. She was straddling a man and was pushing herself up and down in rhythmic, repetitive movements. Wolfram had seen her before – she was the one from the brothel. Her slim, sweaty back obscured the man’s face, but he knew who it was regardless – Yuuri.

Feeling incredibly awkward, stupid and jealous, Wolfram gathered his strength and pushed himself off the wall again. This time he succeeded in turning around and facing the attacker. Wolfram didn’t immediately recognize the man. He seemed familiar, but the blond couldn’t pinpoint where exactly he had seen him before. Turning around hadn’t helped matters at all. Now, the man’s hands grabbed his throat and started choking him.

Wolfram woke up with a disoriented groan. It was hard to breathe. Dazed, he groped around his throat. It appeared it was Eldara’s arm thrown over his neck. Wolfram pushed the offending limb aside, and, waking up, Eldara mumbled something.

“Mnnhmnrm? What?”

“Someone just tried to strangle me.”

Not quite awake yet, Eldara blinked at the ceiling. “Eh? What?”

“Yuuri was fucking that whore from the brothel.”

Completely at a loss, the duke turned to Wolfram. “Huh? What…?”

“Never mind,” Wolfram said, turning away from the duke and settling back to sleep.

Eldara blinked at his back. “No. Explain it to me. What whore? Shibuya with a whore? Really? When did that happen?”

“Never.” Wolfram suddenly thought that he didn’t really know for certain. “Umm…probably?” he added.

“That was only a dream, wasn’t it?”

Wolfram pursed his lips. “It was a nightmare. I think I dreamt about the same man who attacked me in the tavern.”

“Oh. Did it scare you?”

“Yes,” Wolfram said after a pause. “Yes, it did.”

“It’s alright. It’s just a dream, and that man is dead.”

“Yes, I know.”

\- - - 

Wolfram was woken up by Salt was purring directly into his ear. He was lying on his stomach; Eldara’s side of the bed empty. Drowsily, the blond turned to blink at the white, fluffy ball of curled up cat beside his head. Yawning, he poked the cat with a finger. 

“Baa,” he said.

Salt stretched out his front and hind paws and purred louder. Wolfram brushed a hand over his stomach. “Baa, baa,” the blond repeated.

The sound of a door opening came from the living-room, and Wolfram raised his head to look at the door connecting it and the bedroom. He stroked the cat again.

“Baa?”

The door opened, and the duke stepped in. Eldara was wearing a bathrobe and was drying his hair with a towel. 

“Baa, baa.”

“Talking to the cat?” the duke chuckled, approaching the bed. He sat down next to Wolfram.

“Mhmn,” Wolfram hummed. Inhaling deeply, he stretched under the duvet and sprawled over Eldara’s side of the bed. The cat now was above the blond’s head.

Eldara patted Wolfram’s back. “Feeling alright?”

“Baa,” Wolfram answered playfully, shifting under the duvet. Rolling over to face the duke, he inhaled again, and the other man’s scent from the bedding travelled up the blond’s nostrils then went somewhere up his spine and then down to his groin. “Yes, I’m fine.”

“Good.”

Wolfram watched Eldara toss the wet towel onto the chair. “Any news?”

The duke shook his head. “No, not really.” Wolfram was looking at him intently, and Eldara’s eyebrows rose. “What?”

“Mmm… The promise. How about now?”

It took Eldara a few moments to understand what the blond was talking about. He laughed softly. “You don’t need to ask.”

Wolfram tugged at Eldara’s shoulders. The duke let himself be pulled down, his back resting on the mattress, while his head fell onto the blond’s lap. His hands slipped in between the folds of the other man’s bathrobe. His palms slid down over Eldara’s chest then over his sides and to the belt. He stopped at the barricade and startled dismantling it. Once done, Wolfram pushed the bathrobe folds to the side, leaving the front of Eldara’s body completely exposed. The sight of his awakening manhood tugged at Wolfram’s own arousal.

Eldara lay still, letting the blond’s hands roam freely over his body. The blond was getting impatient and soon pushed at the duke’s shoulders to get him out of his lap. Eldara turned around while Wolfram threw the duvet off himself and knelt.

The duke reached out for Wolfram. He wanted to kiss the blond, but Wolfram turned his head aside.

“Morning breath,” he muttered. He tugged on Eldara’s arm to guide him further into the bed until the two of them were kneeling in front of each other. He pushed at Eldara’s chest to make him lie down.

His knees spread apart, Eldara flopped onto his back. He rearranged his legs more comfortably and looked up at Wolfram, who had climbed on top of him. The blond lowered his head, and Eldara felt his tongue lap at his left nipple. Wolfram trailed a line of kisses down his chest until his mouth reached Eldara’s penis. He gave the tip a few tentative licks.

Eldara’s fingers slipped into the blond hair. Encouraged, Wolfram braced his hands against the duke’s hips, his tongue reaching out to lick lower before taking the whole length into his mouth. Eldara hummed in pleasure. Wolfram’s head bobbed up and down while his right hand massaged Eldara’s testicles.

Eldara watched the blond working on him. This was the fourth or fifth time that Wolfram had gone down on him and he was improving each time he did. Eldara ruffled the blond hair affectionately, feeling like complimenting his student.

In a few minutes, Wolfram let the hardened organ leave his mouth. He scooted over to the bedside cabinet to open the first drawer with the condoms and ointment. He took out what he needed, and his attention returned to Eldara. The sprawled out duke was watching him with curiosity, anticipation and…some amusement. Wolfram suddenly felt somewhat annoyed. His arousal was definitely still dominant but it was now tinged with irritation.

Slowly, to tease and get back at Eldara, Wolfram started undressing. He demonstratively unbuttoned his pajama top and shrugged it off. He let it fall onto the floor and started working his pajama pants off. Once done, holding the jar of lubricant, he crawled in between Eldara’s legs.

Wolfram scooped out some lubricant with his fingers, and Eldara spread his legs wider, bending them at the knees. The blond took a look at him then grabbed a pillow from Eldara’s side of the bed. Wordlessly, the duke raised his hips, and Wolfram pushed the pillow underneath.

There was a tangible awkwardness between them but the blond wasn’t able to figure out why. The lubricant had warmed up between his fingers, and Wolfram pressed them between the older man’s thighs. Eldara seemed to be relaxed and didn’t react much when the blond’s finger slipped into him. Wolfram rubbed around gently, smearing the lubricant then pulled the fingers out. He scooped up some more ointment, rubbed it between his fingers to warm it up, waited a little, then pushed his digits back into Eldara. He pumped in and out then pressed his fingers forward, searching for that particular spot that usually resulted in waves of pleasure. A soft shiver passed over Eldara’s body.

Wolfram watched how Eldara’s face tensed up every time his fingers brushed against the spongy nub inside him. The head of Eldara’s penis was reddish, the tip leaking precome.

Eldara’s breathing was becoming heavy, and the blond decided that enough preparation had been done. He pulled his fingers out and wiped them on his discarded pajama bottoms. He found the condom he had tossed onto the duvet earlier and tore the shiny packet open. Again, he felt a little awkward under Eldara’s heated gaze while rolling the condom down his shaft. A little hesitant, but incredibly turned on, he smoothed out the creases and positioned himself at Eldara’s entrance.

The duke reclined his head when he felt Wolfram breach him. He hadn’t done this in a while and felt quite stretched. Wolfram was careful, going in slowly. It was hot and tight. He pushed all the way in and stilled. He had to keep himself still though his body felt the urge to keep going. 

The younger male kept incredulously staring at where they were joined, and Eldara couldn’t help chuckling. The sound was husky, his body clenching around the blond, making him hum in surprise. 

“And how does it feel?”

Wolfram met Eldara’s eyes and blushed awkwardly. “Amazing,” he muttered. “Can I move?”

Eldara laughed again. “Of course,” he said, lifting his legs and crossing the ankles over the blond’s back.

It really felt incredible to be buried inside another man. Wolfram closed his eyes to fully focus on the pleasure. His body was moving on its own; his hips snapping back and forth. His penis felt great – it was wet, hot and throbbing. The pleasure from his groin slowly spread all over his body. Every time he heard Eldara grunt in pleasure, he thrust in even harder. It felt unbelievable to have control over the other man’s body…and his pleasure.

Wolfram opened his eyes to see the duke’s unfocused gaze locked on the ceiling. The older man’s face was flushed, his chest rising and falling quickly. His hips were meeting Wolfram’s perfectly without fail. Yet, there was something off; Wolfram was able to tell that instinctively.

While thrusting in and out, Wolfram could not help imagining von Sedera appearing in his place. For some reason, he had a feeling that with the other man Eldara allowed himself to relax more; to be more wanton and shameless. There was something that Eldara had about men older than him.

The blond was about to come. He reached out for Eldara’s penis to give it a few firm and quick strokes. His reaction was instant: Wolfram felt him clamp down and couldn’t help the grunt that passed his lips. He, however, kept stroking the older man in time with his thrusts. In a few moments, Eldara’s body tensed and he started coming. Wolfram suddenly found himself unable to thrust into the body underneath him. He didn’t even need to – the sight and the pressure around his penis sent him over the edge as well.

Panting, Wolfram waited for Eldara to relax, then pulled out carefully. He took the condom off, tied a knot as he had seen Eldara do, and threw it onto the floor. He moved aside and lay down next to Eldara.

“And how was it?”

Wolfram looked at Eldara’s face. The duke’s eyes met his. Eldara seemed to be honestly interested, his open, flushed face radiating curiosity. Wolfram thought for a moment. He wasn’t exactly certain. 

“Peculiar,” he answered. “Peculiar in a good way.” Wolfram debated with himself whether to voice his observations or not then decided to share them. “I have a feeling that you would have been much more enthusiastic if von Sedera had been in my place.”

“Hmm…” Eldara hummed not certain how to take the statement or what to answer. His preference for older men was a fact, but he had no idea Wolfram could identify his tastes so easily. “Well, yes, probably,” he admitted. “It doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy it, though.”

Wolfram rolled his eyes. “Glad to hear.”

TBC


	41. Part 41

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Kyou Kara Maou! – It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I’m not making any money from writing it.  
> Warnings: yaoi (male x male), violence, swearing, angst, drama. Wolfram-centric, out of character, original character.  
> Summary: With Yuuri’s upcoming birthday, Wolfram makes his decision. Where will it lead him and what is to become of them? Should eventually be Yuuri x Wolfram.  
> A/N 1: Yuuri – 18 years old. Wolfram – 21. Eldara – 32. Halea – 20. Athara – 18. Gwendal – 54.  
> A/N 2: Greta doesn’t exist.  
> A/N 3: European/American/Japanese standards all at once depending on the plot requirements.  
> A/N 4: A tendency to ignore the anime/manga and supplement the story with my own imagined facts.   
> A/N 5: Season III is not taken into consideration, except for the fact that Wolfram’s uncle exists.  
> A/N 6: The umlaut in Gunter’s name is a bother.

**Bloom**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Anonymously Awesome

Part 41

Wolfram climbed onto Rendar and urged her into the park. There was no snow anymore, and the muddy paths were covered in puddles. The weather was warming up as well – the spring rain had started recently. 

Further ahead Wolfram saw someone wearing the colors of Shin Makoku’s united army. He easily recognized his brother’s back. It was strange to see Conrart alone – usually he was accompanied by either Yozak or Karela. The two, however, were busy getting ready for tomorrow’s wedding, making sure the security was flawless. 

Wolfram urged Rendar forward and walked her alongside Conrart.

“Good morning.”

Conrart nodded in answer. “Hey. How are you?”

“I’m fine. Just taking Rendar for a ride. Up for a race?”

“Sure. Where to?”

“Let’s make a couple of rounds in the yard.”

They turned their horses around and headed for the yard. 

Several of the duke’s men were in the yard. Some were gentling their horses, others were watching, discussing something lively. They hushed a little when Wolfram and Conrart approached but, seeing that they had no business with them, continued talking. 

Wolfram stopped his horse. “From here to the gates and back,” he stated.

Conrart observed the yard – the path was completely clear all the way to the gate. The ground was muddy, dirt trampled out by hooves and carriage wheels.

Wolfram motioned for one of the men to come closer, and Conrart explained to him what they wanted. As soon as the news of the race spread, all the men with horses joined Wolfram and Conrart and lined up in one row with them. The man Conrart had talked to drew a line in the mud with his boot then stood aside and, with his right hand raised in the air, started counting.

“One. Two. Three. Go!” he shouted, bringing his hand down to signal the start of the race.

The horses surged forward, the men’s loud voices echoing in the yard. The ground shook; chunks of dirt flying everywhere from under the hooves. The excited spectators shouted and clapped to encourage and support the riders. 

The horses flew across the yard, the leading ones already closing in on the gates. They started slowing down in order to turn around. In a semicircle, they turned around and started thundering back towards the castle; the other riders trying to catch up with them. In a couple of minutes they were half-way across the yard, the excitement mounting at the quickly approaching goal.

Conrart was the first to cross the finish line. One of the duke’s came in second, and Wolfram was third. Triumphantly, Conrart turned his horse around and trotted back to the finish line. The other men had also finished the race and were calming their horses down. Conrart was congratulated on his success and received quite a few pats on the back. He couldn’t help grinning. 

“Congratulations,” Wolfram said, patting Rendar’s neck to calm her down. The mare was excited and didn’t want to stay still at all. “How about a rematch?” he suggested. “I think she was just starting to get into it.”

Conrart chuckled. “That’s only an excuse, but why not?”

Accompanied by the duke’s men, they repeated the race three more times. Attracted by the noise, even more soldiers joined the contest.

“Ah, that was good,” Wolfram sighed contently when he and Conrart were riding slowly in the park, letting the horses cool off. “We can do it again tomorrow just before the banquet starts.”

Conrart doubted there would be enough time for that but agreed with a nod. He was keen on spending more time with his brother. He was even keener, though, on getting him out of Kardera and back to Shin Makoku. The seas were free to travel again, and if it was down to him, he would gladly pack Wolfram into a trunk and send him back home by force. As it stood now, Conrart was afraid to even breach the subject of return for fear of angering Wolfram.

“Ehmm…” Conrart started uncertainly, “Wolfram, when do you intend to travel back home?” 

Conrart was disturbed by the troubled expression that had appeared on the blond’s face as soon as he had heard the question. 

“Mmm…” Wolfram hummed. “In a few weeks’ time?” he offered carefully.

“I see,” Conrart said just as carefully as the blond. He knew very well that “a few weeks’ time” could easily turn into a “few months’ time”. There was even a possibility of it turning into “a few years’ time”. Yet, he didn’t dare voice his disapproval.

Silently, the two finished circling the garden and returned to the stables.

\- - -

The majority of the guests arrived at about ten in the morning. About thirty had arrived a day before and spent the night in the guest rooms. Many of them were going to join the wedding party later at the temple. Orinth the Sixth and his family had spent the night in the castle. The king had travelled from far away to show his support of von Ashira House. It was a little unusual in Kardera for the wedding venue to be the bride’s home, but it was one of the Duke of Raizgad’s wedding gifts to his sister and brother-in-law. It was also common knowledge that the duke had been against the wedding taking place in von Sarda’s household as, had that been the case, the king’s attendance wouldn’t have been certain. 

At eleven, Halea von Ashira left her chambers. She climbed down the stairs to the first floor, and Fredrick rushed to meet her. There was an obvious look of adoration on von Sarda’s face. Halea’s wedding dress was traditionally white and heavy with lace and frills. The skirt was puffy and started at the waist; the frills and lace going all the way to the ground, cleverly concealing her stomach. A small pearl necklace was worn as the sole accompaniment to the white dress and her usually loose hair was arranged into an intricate hairdo.

Smiling nervously, Halea took her fiancé’s hand and squeezed it firmly. Fredrick was also dressed his finest fair; the black suit impeccable and the white shirt underneath without a crease. He looked no less nervous than Halea. He wished all the guests would disappear, and he and Halea could have a simple but quick ceremony without all the pomposity and self-important people. 

Fredrick led Halea through the house towards the door. Carrying Halea’s coat, a maid rushed after them. They started dressing, getting ready to go outside into the cold spring, and the guests followed their lead. Everyone left the castle, climbed into their carriages or onto their horses and set off downhill. 

Due to bad roads, it took about an hour to reach Moran’s temple. The cobbled square in front of the temple already housed about ten carriages that belonged to the families that had arrived straight at the temple. With all the carriages and horses stationed at the temple, the square was packed. Moran was the goddess of family and fertility. Traditionally, her main temple was where nearly all weddings in Raizgad took place.

Fredrick helped Halea climb out of the carriage and, followed by their households, they went into the temple. The temple was humming with voices. They grew even louder when the groom and the bride entered. People from all over Raizgad had gathered to watch this spectacular wedding. Despite the crowded temple, the seats at the front were empty, left for the relatives. There were quite a few people who had no seats and were lined against the walls. 

Waiting for their guests and relatives to take their seats, Halea and Fredrick stood at the doors, not moving further into the temple. The priests and their assistants were also waiting for the people to hush.

Once everyone had taken their seats and kept quiet, the priest took a small bell from the altar and rang it three times. Halea and Fredrick moved forward through the gap between the rows of chairs and benches. Slowly, they reached the altar, and the priest rang the bell again. He lowered the bell and cleared his throat.

“We gathered here to witness two becoming one.”

The priest’s voice still echoing in the spacious temple, he turned to Halea. 

“Halea von Ashira of Raizgad, are you ready to cast your previous life aside and start a new one by becoming this man’s wife?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Fredrick von Sarda of Airidan, will you cast your previous life aside and begin a new one by becoming this woman’s husband?”

“Yes, I will.”

“In the name of Moran, I announce you married.” The priest cast his eyes over the crowd. “You are the witnesses. You can now exchange your family tokens.”

There was movement in the front row seats, and Eldara with the eldest von Sarda stood up. They approached the newly married couple. Eldara held out a ring for Fredrick to take.

“With this, you become a part of my family.”

Bowing, Fredrick accepted the ring and put it on. “Thank you, I gladly accept.”

His father held out a ring for Halea. “With this, you will become one of von Sarda’s.”

Halea bowed. “Thank you, I’m honored,” she said, putting the ring on.

Eldara and von Sarda returned to their seats, and the priest rang the bell three times, indicating that the ceremony was successfully completed. The huge wave of applause shook the temple.

\- - - 

Wolfram found a calmer spot at the end of the hall. Sipping his wine, he watched couples floating across the dance floor while the musicians played waltz. A few minutes later, Wolfram caught a sight of Reikia heading towards him. For a moment, he was worried that von Estram was going to ask him for a dance. Reikia, however, turned to his right to ask a young girl out. The two went to dance, and Wolfram exhaled in relief. For a while, he watched them dance then his gaze slid further ahead and settled on Eldara. The duke was standing at the wall and talking to von Sedera’s daughter. Mariah von Gerald was a recent widow as her late husband had died in the capital while trying to suppress the followers of Markez von Mendoza. Despite being in her late thirties and having two adolescent daughters, she was good marriage material: rich, influential and beautiful. Wolfram had no doubts that by the end of the year she would find herself already married. Maybe even to Eldara. It would benefit both families. Curious, Wolfram watched them interact: a smile here, a laugh there, it seemed like the two were having fun. Would von Sedera agree? Would Eldara be interested? It wasn’t a bad idea but was it morally acceptable? Then again, Eldara was morally flexible.

Wolfram finished his wine and decided to get some snacks. He piled up his plate and headed back to his corner. It appeared to be already taken by a flirting couple, and, searching for a new haven, Wolfram ran his eyes over the hall. He spotted an empty table next to the door at a window.

The music changed to something faster, and, under the table, Wolfram’s right foot started tapping to the rhythm. Eating, he listened to the music. He was nearly done with his plate when he noticed Eldara heading towards him.

“Would you care to dance?” Eldara asked him.

“Oh, no, thank you,” Wolfram said, pushing his empty plate away.

A servant rushed over to them and took it away. Eldara pulled a chair away from the table and sat down.

“So how did it go with Lady von Gerald?”

Eldara gave Wolfram a look. “What exactly was supposed to ‘go’ and where?”

“Uh… Well, I mean this kind of union would be beneficial to both families, right?”

“Oh.” Eldara nodded. “True. There’s no son to inherit the goods and assets, so the estate and the land would both belong to me or, later, to my son. The best thing about this marriage, however, would be von Sedera’s visits: alongside my wife, I could also fuck her father. A wonderful union, indeed.”

Wolfram’s face turned red. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Oh, no, Wolfram, that’s exactly what you meant.”

“Ermm… Well…” At a loss for words, Wolfram quieted.

Eldara chuckled. He stood up and went to the large table to get some wine. Carrying two glasses, he returned and gave one to Wolfram. 

“To Halea’s happiness,” he said, his glass clinking against Wolfram’s.

“Yes, to Halea’s happiness,” Wolfram repeated. He sipped his wine then lowered his glass on the table.

“I can’t believe she’s leaving a day after tomorrow,” Eldara muttered, his eyes following his sister and Fredrick amongst the other dancers.

Not certain what to say, Wolfram watched the couple as well. “Well, you’re getting cute nephews and nieces out of this deal,” he pointed out. “You did say that you like children.”

Eldara sighed. “Indeed.” He looked at the blond. “And you? When are you planning to leave?”

Awkwardly, Wolfram lowered his eyes and started playing with his glass. “In two weeks. I’ve already written to Gwendal.”

“I see.”

Wolfram gave the duke an uncertain smile.

“Really, why don’t we go for a dance?” Eldara suggested again.

Wolfram gave him a little surprised and unsure look. “Umm… I did mention that I’m a bad dancer, didn’t I?”

“Oh, can’t you humor me for at least a few minutes, please?” Eldara asked while holding out his hand for Wolfram.

Hesitant, the blond glanced quickly around the busy hall; did Eldara really want to dance with him in front of all these people? His eyes focused back on the duke. “Emm… Won’t it seem strange?” 

“Not at all.”

The younger man was still hesitating, but Eldara’s fingers wrapped around his upper arm and pulled him up. Wolfram wanted to leave his wineglass on the table then changed his mind. He followed the duke further into the hall. They made their way through the dancing couples and stopped near the stage with musicians. Eldara had a few words with the leading musician, and, in several seconds, the fast polka changed into a slow syrupy melody. The duke’s hands settled on Wolfram’s waist, and the two of them started to dance leisurely.

Somewhat uncomfortable, Wolfram sipped his wine and swallowed with difficulty. “Everyone’s staring at us,” he muttered.

“And?”

With a sigh, Wolfram stretched his arms out to rest them on Eldara’s shoulders. “Don’t you find it annoying?”

“No, I find it amusing. Ouch.”

“Sorry.”

“You really don’t seem to dance often, do you?”

“I do sometimes, but I wasn’t being coy when I said that dancing is not my forte.”

“Yes, I understood that already. Yet, the ability to dance well is an important part of a gentleman’s etiquette.”

Wolfram nodded. “I couldn’t agree more.”

“Well, I suppose, in your case, dancing doesn’t have to be a priority.”

“Why is that?”

“Because you prefer men, and most of them are more interested in hunting, horses and swordplay than dancing,” Eldara pointed out. “Still, it is a thrill to ask the one you like for a dance.”

“Do you feel thrilled now?”

“When did I say that I like you?” Eldara teased. He flinched when Wolfram stepped on his right foot again. “Ouch. You did that intentionally just now,” he accused.

“Maybe.”

Wolfram brought the glass to his lips and drained the last drops of wine. Wrapping his arm back over Eldara’s shoulder, he let the empty glass droop over the older man’s back. Eldara was leading the dance, his hands set firmly on his waist. The warmth from them was seeping through Wolfram’s jacket.

“I have to agree that this does feel nice,” Wolfram said a minute later.

“Glad to hear it,” Eldara said, smiling. 

When the music changed and the hall was filled with the sounds of a waltz, Wolfram and Eldara returned to the table they had sat at previously.

“Some more wine?” Eldara suggested, motioning to one of the servants with a tray.

Wolfram gave him a suspicious look.

Eldara chuckled. “Don’t give me that look. Today is my precious sister’s wedding. We can afford to get a little drunk.”

The servant brought over the wine, and they took the glasses. Silently, listening to the waltz and watching couples dance, they sipped the wine.

“I think I’ll be missing her terribly,” Eldara said, his eyes searching for his sister in the crowd.

Thoughtful, Wolfram watched the duke’s profile. Eldara valued family above all else, and it was obvious that it was going to take him time to get used to the idea of Halea belonging to another man.

“Umm…” Wolfram drawled. “You know, there is no real need for me to return to Shin Makoku just yet. I think I can…”

Eldara turned to look at him. “Wolfram, you’ve already informed your family about the date of your return.”

“Yes, but I can cancel it.”

“No, it’s alright. You don’t need to prolong your stay since I’m going with you.”

Confused, Wolfram blinked at him. “Going where? To Shin Makoku?”

“Of course.”

Wolfram was staring at him in surprise. “Oh,” he said. “Why?”

“I want to discuss a very important matter with von Voltaire.”

“Mmm….” the blond drawled. “What exactly would that be?” 

“Can’t you guess?”

“You’re going to ask him for my hand?” Wolfram asked staring at Eldara in disbelief.

“Yes, I am. First, however, I want to know what your thoughts are concerning this.”

“Uh… I…” Lost, Wolfram shook his head. “Ahh… Ehm… Are you serious?”

“You know that I am.”

Wolfram reclined in his chair. “Uh… I need to think about this.” He took his glass and gulped down a mouthful.

Eldara leaned forward and touched Wolfram’s hand lightly. “You look daunted. The last thing I want is for you to feel pressured.”

Wolfram chuckled awkwardly. “Ah, no. It’s not that. It’s…just a little unexpected.”

“Is it?”

Wolfram’s face turned pink. “Umm… No, I suppose, not exactly,” he admitted.

Eldara laughed softly. He patted Wolfram’s hand again and stood up. “There are still a couple of weeks left for you to think about it.”

\- - -

The excited hubbub continued to the second day of the wedding. Due to the recent civil war, there was less food on the tables than was usual during such prominent weddings. Yet, the duke had made certain the guests lacked nothing.

In the afternoon, the wedding presents were brought in. Halea and Fredrick kept smiling and thanking the numerous gift-givers. They had to go outside to the yard several times since some of the gifts were horses and carriages. Wolfram was content when it seemed that the newlyweds were impressed by the carriage that he had specially chosen for them. 

Halea and Fredrick also received two rare breeds of dog and a cat, the three of which started fighting as soon as they were brought into the same room. There was also a baby cot and two wooden horses, the sight of them nearly causing Halea to burst out crying.

Besides the lavish reception, Eldara also presented the newlyweds with the finest sable fur coats to keep them warm during wintry days. Halea, who had wanted such a coat for a long time, tried hers on at once. Fredrick was no less happy with such a practical gift. 

After the gifts had been exchanged, the merriment restarted and continued late into the night.

\- - - 

Wolfram woke up at 4am and wasn’t able to fall asleep again. Thoughts kept swirling uneasily in his head. On the other side of the bed, however, Eldara was sleeping peacefully. 

Despite the fact that Wolfram and Eldara hardly had any time to interact during the last couple of days, the atmosphere had become a little strange between them. Wolfram didn’t sense any changes in Eldara, and the duke seemed to be acting as per usual. Wolfram, on the other hand, suddenly found himself acting shy and reserved around the other man. He was definitely attracted to Eldara, but now there was a feeling of uncertainty. He felt guilty and had a feeling that he would prefer not to see Eldara at all until he had decided whether to accept the proposal or not. He wanted some breathing space; some room to think. Interacting with Eldara at this crucial moment in time also made Wolfram feel manipulated.

Wolfram liked spending his time with Eldara: having conversations, sparring, riding together, flirting; all of that was fun. The best thing in his and Eldara’s relationship though, was probably sex. Wolfram wondered if that was really true, and if so, then just how attached he was to Eldara.

Sleep eluded Wolfram. No matter how hard he tried, his mind refused to stop going over and over the same thoughts. Finally, at about seven o’clock, he fell asleep. An hour later, however, he was awakened by Eldara, who was getting up.

Sleepy and tired, Wolfram turned to his side to watch the duke search for his underwear.

“Why do you want to marry me?”

Eldara put his underwear on and turned to the bed. “Hmm… Why? Don’t we feel good together?”

Humming, Wolfram rolled over on his back. “That’s true, but…you don’t love me.”

Eldara opened the wardrobe to get his bathrobe. “To be fair, I believe that we like each other enough to make it last. Besides, I thought you were quite skeptical about love…aren’t you?”

“Well, yes,” Wolfram agreed. “I suppose I am, but…”

Eldara watched the younger male. Wolfram’s reluctance to accept the proposal wasn’t unexpected, but Eldara had hoped he would be more favorable toward the idea. It even irritated Eldara somewhat; the fact that Wolfram acted so levelheadedly.

“It is a very good chance to create ties between our countries,” Eldara said, approaching the bed.

Wolfram watched him put his bathrobe on. In his opinion, the duke wasn’t making much sense. “First off,” he started, “most of my family will be against this marriage no matter what the benefits are. Secondly, said ties would only be superficial. In this case, a marriage between two males would not unite anything – there would be no common heir to inherit both of the Houses.”

“That’s certainly correct but think about economical and political benefits.”

“To be perfectly honest with you, I’m more interested in easily accessible sex.”

Eldara chuckled. “You are really apolitical.”

“Guilty as charged.”

“Well, I’m certainly not displeased,” Eldara said, leaning forward, his hand slipping under the blankets. His eyebrows rose in surprise when Wolfram gently but firmly pushed his hand aside.

“This makes me feel as if you’re trying to manipulate me,” Wolfram said. “I want to think carefully about your proposal.”

Standing up, trying not to show his disappointment, the duke nodded. “Yes, thinking with one’s dick is not a very good idea.”

“Yes, and I’m afraid my dick is currently what I’m doing most of my thinking with.”

Eldara sighed. “Alright. I promise to give you a little bit more space although I don’t think I tried to usurp all of your time and attention before either.”

Wolfram shook his head. “It’s not really about that.”

“It’s alright, take your time.”

“When is Halea leaving?” Wolfram asked after a pause, changing the topic. He began to think that he should get up as well.

“I think at about ten. Depends on how long it will take her to get ready.”

“It will take time to transport all of their things.”

“Halea has already sent some of hers forward to von Sardas’ in advance.”

“Ah, that’s smart.”

ooOoOoOoo

There had been a somewhat unusual atmosphere between Wolfram and von Ashira since a few days ago. The change was very subtle, but Conrart could clearly sense it. It might have been caused by the departure of von Ashira’s sister, but he doubted that was the reason. He had debated whether he should risk breaching the subject then decided that it was necessary.

Conrart entered Wolfram’s room. It was about the tenth time that he was visiting his brother’s room, but he was still impressed by how luxurious it was. There was a vast contrast between the room he was in now and his own one.

Wolfram was sitting at the table, writing a letter. It was probably meant for Gwendal. Conrart felt a pang of jealousy – despite the fact that his relationship with Wolfram had improved tenfold, it was unlikely for it to become as strong as it was between Wolfram and Gwendal.

Conrart watched Wolfram lower his pen and push it aside. The blond gave him a questioning look. His emerald eyes were serious, and Conrart felt his resolution waver – every time they talked about his brother and the duke’s relationship, Wolfram would get upset and act defensively. Why did he even think it was a good idea to breach the topic when it was all going to be over in little more than a week? They were going to leave Raizgad and their problems behind.

“Did something happen?”

Conrart shifted uncomfortably and took a seat next to his brother.

“Um,” he started reluctantly, “that’s actually what I wanted to ask. You’ve been acting a little unusually around von Ashira.” He left it hanging, hoping Wolfram would pick up and continue.

“Ah, that.”

Conrart waited for him to continue, but, instead, the blond gave him a sheepish look. Conrart felt his heart beat faster.

“What did he do?” he asked, his voice nearly a growl.

Wolfram waved his hands about. “No, no. Uh… He proposed to me.”

Stunned, Conrart stared at him. “Did you give him an answer?”

“I’m thinking about it.”

“You are? Really?”

Wolfram couldn’t help laughing at the incredulity on his brother’s face. “Well, it’s not like I didn’t entertain thoughts about marrying him even before he proposed. It wasn’t unexpected.”

Conrart shook his head. “That’s different.”

“Not really. I think it would be a good idea: the marriage would bring the two countries closer and we do like each other.”

“If you need to think of reasons why you should marry, you aren’t ready to marry,” Conrart said.

Wolfram sniggered. “Says the expert in love triangles.”

Conrart reddened. “That’s got nothing to do with this – I’m not marrying either of them.”

Wolfram rolled his eyes. “It’s not that you don’t want to, though. It’s that you can’t. Yozak is such a fickle character, isn’t he?”

“We aren’t talking about me now,” Conrart protested again.

Wolfram sighed. He knew he was being unfair to his brother. “Yes, right. I’m sorry. I know you don’t like him, but this is my decision.”

“Wolfram, whether you marry him or not, the most important thing to me is that you would be happy. I don’t like him much, true, but if you feel happy with him…”

“I do, but…”

“But?”

“I don’t think I’m in love. Neither is he.”

“Umm…”

“On the other hand, ‘love’ is a fickle thing. So isn’t it better this way? ‘Love’ doesn’t last forever, does it? So at some point one would realize they are stuck in an empty marriage with a person they can barely tolerate. But when you do it this way, there will be no surprises.”

“I am not certain that’s how it works,” Conrart said. “It’s probably more a matter of habit. I… Well, to be honest, love or no love, I think you wouldn’t be having all these doubts if you really wanted to marry him.”

TBC


	42. Part 42

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Kyou Kara Maou! – It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I’m not making any money from writing it.  
> Warnings: yaoi (male x male), violence, swearing, angst, drama. Wolfram-centric, out of character, original character.  
> Summary: With Yuuri’s upcoming birthday, Wolfram makes his decision. Where will it lead him and what is to become of them? Should eventually be Yuuri x Wolfram.  
> A/N 1: Yuuri – 18 years old. Wolfram – 21. Eldara – 32. Halea – 20. Athara – 18. Gwendal – 54.  
> A/N 2: Greta doesn’t exist.  
> A/N 3: European/American/Japanese standards all at once depending on the plot requirements.  
> A/N 4: A tendency to ignore the anime/manga and supplement the story with my own imagined facts.  
> A/N 5: Season III is not taken into consideration, except for the fact that Wolfram’s uncle exists.  
> A/N 6: The umlaut in Gunter’s name is a bother.

**Bloom**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Anonymously Awesome

Part 42

“He w-what?” Yozak stuttered. Incredulous, he stared at Conrart.

“He wants to marry Wolfram,” Conrart repeated. He frowned in distaste when Yozak burst out laughing. 

“Atta boy! Snatched himself the second most important man in Kardera!”

Conrart’s face became bitterly reproachful. “I’m not sure who snatched whom here and besides, Orinth the Sixth has heirs, who are much more important than von Ashira.”

Yozak waved it off. “Who cares?” He shook his head. “But really, von Ashira went and proposed? Amazing, I never expected that!”

Conrart huffed in irritation. “Why do you seem so happy about this?”

“And what’s there to be unhappy about? Good for them!”

“I don’t think it’s a very good idea. Maybe he’s planning to make Wolfram give up his rights to von Bielefeld’s House?” Conrart suggested, but his voice was doubtful.

Yozak patted his friend on his shoulder. “That’s utter drivel, and you know it. Wolfram is indeed fascinated with von Ashira, but it would take much more than that for Wolfram to even consider the idea.”

“He could try to force or blackmail Wolfram.”

Yozak raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Contrarily to the seemingly popular opinion that von Ashira is bent on abusing Wolfram in some way, I honestly believe that he genuinely likes Wolfram. A lot at that.”

“They have nothing in common!” Conrart protested.

“They do, actually…” Yozak said. “First,” he bent his thumb, “they enjoy each other’s company. Second, they obviously enjoy the sex, too. Third,” he bent another finger in Conrart’s dissatisfied face, “they are from the same strata. Shall I continue?”

“You can since there’s nothing else to add.”

“I beg to differ,” Yozak said, bending yet another finger. “They both love horses. Both of them love sword fighting. Both of them feel that there’s something they can gain from each other.”

Conrart glowered at him. “That’s where the problem is – it’s all about gaining something. I don’t understand that kind of thing in a marriage.”

“Quite the opposite. I believe that it can only work if both parties complement each other. Love is fleeting, what’s left later is…”

“And yet you just said how similar they are!”

Yozak rolled his eyes. “Oh, for gods’ sakes. So now you want me to enumerate their differences? Stop acting childish!”

Conrart gritted his teeth but stayed quiet. This discussion was really starting to turn into a childish spat. It was not only about Wolfram now. This was way more personal than Conrart wanted to admit. Deep down, he was starting to resent Yozak for everything he was made to go through.

“You see only one side of the coin,” Yozak was saying. “It goes both ways, though. I can assure you that Wolfram finds a lot of appeal in the idea of such a powerful and influential man belonging to him.”

Conrart threw him an annoyed look. He knew that. Wolfram was selfish, but it wasn’t the point. The point was that many men in Wolfram’s place would accept von Ashira’s offer. They would think that there was nothing to lose. Except that there was.

“Do you really believe von Ashira will stay loyal to Wolfram?” Conrart asked. “What will Wolfram do when von Ashira resorts to playing around behind his back? Such a disgrace!”

“Well, who could blame him? This marriage would be a business deal. Besides… I bet Wolfram would be the first to breach the deal.”

“Your cynicism astounds me,” Conrart spat in distaste. “Although, I don’t know what else I expected from you!” he grunted, leaving his chair. He walked to the door briskly, and slammed it behind himself.

**oOo_Two Weeks Later_oOo**

The sea waved lazily, the sails billowed out in the favorable winds, and the three ships were speeding steadily forward towards Shin Makoku. The main ship – a trading one – was being escorted by the military warships. The duke with his guests and most of his guards were on the trade ship. If the good weather persisted, a two days’ journey awaited them.

Soon after they set sail, Wolfram’s stomach rebelled just as everyone was afraid it would. The blond was ushered into the cabin he and Eldara shared, away from the sight of the gently rolling sea. The pail bucket never left Wolfram’s side. Once his stomach had gotten rid of breakfast, the blond felt relatively better.

Eldara took his time looking around on the deck. Later, he entered their cabin to find Wolfram on the bed, lying on his stomach. The bed was made, and he was lying on the covers, listless. There was also a pail next to the bed on the floor. Eldara approached Wolfram and sat down on the corner of the bed. He could smell the faint hint of vomit.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked, stroking the blond’s back.

Wolfram shook his head. “No. Yes. I don’t know!” he groaned miserly. “I hate this!”

The duke’s soothing hand brushed over Wolfram’s right shoulder. He pushed his fingers behind the younger man’s collar to touch his nape. The skin was cool and damp. With a sigh, Eldara stood up and went to the chest near the wall where he stored his clothing and started searching through it. In a few moments, he pulled out a small bottle. He carried it to the bed and offered to Wolfram.

“This should take care of your nausea. Two drops into a glass of water, twice a day.”

Suspicious, Wolfram sat up and took the bottle. “What’s that?”

“It’s medicine for seasickness. This is what some of my men use when we need to travel longer distances by ship. Truth be told, it is mostly used by half-bloods, but I’ve also seen it work for full-bloods. I didn’t notice any side effects, and, honestly, I doubt you can get any worse.”

The blond gave Eldara an accusatory look. “Why didn’t you tell me about this earlier?”

“I had discussed this with Gurrier and he had refused to allow it on the basis that it could poison you.”

Wolfram motioned for him to get some of water from the barrel at the end of the cabin. “Why didn’t you ask me first?”

“Because he’s the one responsible for your wellbeing.”

“You prick,” Wolfram admonished. “And yet you’re giving it to me.”

“Yes, I shouldn’t,” Eldara said. “You can tell on me if you wish.” He carried a tin mug to Wolfram and watched him add two drops into the water. 

“If this helps, I’ll want to know its composition,” Wolfram said, before drinking from the mug. He figured he was going to throw up most of it in a few minutes. He lay back down again, hoping for the best but expecting the worst.

Wolfram woke up six hours later after a good, quality sleep, feeling much better. It was completely dark in the cabin, but he could hear someone breathing next to him; obviously it was Eldara. There were new blankets and covers over them; Eldara had obviously not wanted to wake him up while pulling out the ones underneath.

He rolled onto his back and sighed. For a few moments, he stared at the ceiling, but it was completely dark and he wondered how long the effects of the medicine would last. Eldara mentioned something about taking it twice a day, but Wolfram worried it might wear off sooner.

Wolfram hadn’t given Eldara his answer yet, but that hadn’t changed the duke’s decision to visit Shin Makoku. Feeling guilty about his indecisiveness, he had avoided asking about Eldara’s reasons. Perhaps it was purely business or, even more likely, the attempt to face the rest of his family, namely Gwendal, directly and clear up all possible misunderstandings and animosity. However, how Eldara was going to do that under the current circumstances was beyond him.

The blond wasn’t certain why it was so difficult to make the decision. One moment he would be overtaken by the irresistible idea of making Eldara his and the next he would be scared by the very thought of commitment to the duke. The main reason, though, why he hesitated to accept the proposal was that he knew his family, mainly Gwendal, would not approve of Eldara. On the other hand, was it really important? They wouldn’t be the ones to marry Eldara. 

There was something missing, Wolfram could feel it clearly. He had never thought about these things nor had he needed encouragement when he had been engaged to Yuuri. He hadn’t cared about anyone and anything, he had just been waiting for Yuuri to say the word – he would have married Yuuri in an instant. 

But that was back then, when he hadn’t known any better.

Wolfram turned to his side, shifted closer to Eldara’s back and pressed his forehead between the other man’s shoulder blades. He inhaled deeply and let Eldara’s scent wash through him. The particular smell was comforting as usual. It was soft, diluted as it often was with half-bloods. As far as Wolfram knew, humans and most half-bloods weren’t as sensitive to the scent of others as Demons were. There wasn’t much of a difference, though.

“Feeling better?”

Wolfram blinked at Eldara’s back. “Yeah, I’m fine. That medicine worked wonders. Sorry, did I wake you up?”

Eldara yawned loudly. “Not exactly you, rather that thing poking into my thigh.”

“Ugh.” A little embarrassed, Wolfram scooted away from him. 

“Want to have a go?” Eldara suggested albeit in a disinterested voice.

“No, not really.”

“Good,” the duke said, turning around, throwing his arm around the blond’s midsection. “Sleep.”

Wolfram rolled his eyes. A few minutes later Eldara’s breathing evened out indicating that he was asleep again. 

Wolfram spent the rest of the night brooding, his thoughts somewhat chaotic. His sleep was a fitful one, and he awoke in the morning with a throbbing headache from a lack of rest. 

\- - - 

“Are you really alright?” Yozak asked Wolfram when all of them were sitting down at the breakfast table in Wolfram and Eldara’s cabin. “Won’t you hurl?”

“I’m completely fine, Yozak.”

“He gave it to you after all, didn’t he? And after I explicitly told him not to!”

“I’m glad he did. That medicine is a lifesaver.”

The door to the cabin creaked open, and Eldara entered the cabin. He was being followed by Karela and a heavily built brunette. Wolfram stared at the newcomer in disbelief.

“You!” he exclaimed.

From behind the duke’s back, the brunette took a good look at Wolfram.

“Von Bielefeld! Fancy meeting you here, darling! How’s life treating you?”

While Conrart and Yozak were thinking about whether they should do something about the disrespect the captain of the ship was showing to Wolfram, the blond’s eyes found Eldara’s and gave the duke a hard, questioning stare.

“You said he was dead.”

Eldara circled the table to take a seat next to Wolfram while Karela took a guarding position behind their backs.

“Well…” Eldara drawled. “I wasn’t exactly truthful, I suppose.”

“Not exactly truthful?” Wolfram sputtered. “You said Sharp Ronny was dead! You lied!”

“And why exactly does that surprise you?” Sharp Ronny asked, taking a seat opposite Wolfram. “Von Ashira here makes a living off of lies.” He gave the blond a charming smile. “Well, truth be told, no one calls me Sharp Ronny anymore. Now I’m better known as Vatora Rozenblom.”

“What the hell is with that?” Wolfram grunted, losing his patience.

“But really, you’re just as pretty as I remember!” Sharp Ronny said. “Pretty as a picture!”

“Shut your mouth, you damn pirate!” Wolfram snapped at him. He glared at the duke. “What the hell is going on?!”

Eldara shrugged. He extended his hand with his palm upwards towards Sharp Ronny. “Allow me to introduce you. Vatora Rozamblom, the captain of The Savior, my most…inspiring subject.”

Yozak and Conrart kept looking from Wolfram to Rozamblom and to the duke, not certain what to make of all this. Conrart had travelled with the captain before and had deemed him to be a friendly, easy-going man. Him apparently being a pirate was…

Yozak’s sword jingled as it was drawn. “Is this the one who kidnapped you back then?”

Wolfram motioned for him to stand down. “He’s a Demon, and wields water; I don’t think you have much of a chance against him. Besides, now he’s…von Ashira’s subject,” he spat angrily.

“Why don’t we all just sit down and discuss it civilly?” the duke suggested with a motion at the readied table. “Personally, I am hungry.”

Wolfram threw him a smoldering glare. 

“Yes, indeed,” Rozamblom seconded the duke. He smiled sweetly when Wolfram motioned for his suite to sit down. “Don’t worry, darling,” he said, spearing a chicken breast with his fork and dragging it into his plate. “I’m a changed man now. No more pirating and plundering for me.” He turned to look at the duke, who pointedly ignored him. “Well, unless I share some of the loot, ain’t that so, handsome?” 

Eldara’s brow rose but he stayed quiet while filling his plate.

Rozamblom turned back to Wolfram. “I’m glad to see you doing well. I was almost certain that von Ashira here had you hanged together with my mates; he doesn’t take kindly to other ‘vons’.”

“You talk too much, Rozamblom,” Eldara said, giving him a warning look.

“Well, Gods gave man a mouth for a reason,” Rozamblom pointed out raising his fork in the air.

“Indeed,” Eldara said.

The people started in shock when suddenly Karela’s sword wedged itself into the table right next to Rozamblom’s right hand. He nearly dropped the chicken breast he was chewing on.

“I would believe that you would find it difficult to talk without your head,” the duke said softly. He gave another signal to Karela.

The captain’s foot took leverage on the edge of the table and he pulled his blade out of the wood. Sheathing the sword, Karela cast an unamused look at the former pirate.

Rozamblom swallowed the chicken in his mouth and took another bite. “Aren't you worried about scaring your sweetheart here?” he asked the duke wistfully. “You’re showing your true colors.”

“Do I look worried?” Eldara asked him quietly, leaning forward in his chair, his posture challenging.

“Gods,” Rozamblom grunted, “I could fuck you on top of this table right now.”

In the stunned silence that followed, Eldara stared at him then blinked slowly. “Would that actually make you shut up?”

An excited grin appeared on Rozamblom’s face. With his chunky fingers he reached out for Eldara’s face, but Karela’s hand wrapped around his wrist mercilessly.

“I suppose we will never find out,” Eldara said with false regret. “Now, please, Rozamblom, be on your best behavior, or I will be compelled to throw you into the sea. Headless.”

“I suppose you’re not kidding this time,” Rozamblom said, noting that particular look in the duke’s eyes.

“I can assure you that I am not.”

The rest of breakfast passed in near-complete silence.

\- - - 

The sun was bright, but it was windy and cold. Most men, though, were on the deck, celebrating Yozak’s birthday. It was the first time in Wolfram’s life that he was able to stand on the deck and enjoy the scenery of the waving sea without getting sick. The men had been given a mug of wine each and were sipping it leisurely while watching the show. 

Eldara was standing next to Wolfram, watching Yozak, who was prancing and strutting about according to the music, trying to entertain everyone.

“It’s my first time seeing something like this,” the duke muttered softly, not even trying to hide the wonderment in his voice.

“It’s his favorite,” Wolfram said, referring to Yozak’s bright blue dress. 

“Does he really think he looks like a woman?” the duke asked, observing the towering ginger. “He’s huge! Those shoulders!”

“It’s probably just the idea itself,” Wolfram. “I like to think of it as a hobby.” He grinned contently at the sight of Yozak showing off his newly-received belt to Conrart. It didn’t compliment the dress, but went well with Yozak’s sturdy boots.

Eldara obviously noticed that as well as he asked, “Doesn’t he normally try to match his shoes with that…outfit?”

While trying to remember, Wolfram gave him a look. “Well, I suppose today is… High heels are probably difficult to wear on the deck…” he ventured a guess. “Make-up makes it all better, though. There were times when he easily passed as a woman.”

Eldara looked incredulous. “Were they blind?”

Wolfram laughed softly. “It’s his personality. He seems to be honest to a fault.”

They watched the laughing men, clapping their hands to the music streaming from the accordion. Yozak invited Conrart for a dance, and the two of them spun around in a made-up dance for a couple of moments. Then a few more men joined in and soon the whole ship started buzzing and shaking from the feet hitting the planks.

“Care for a dance?” Eldara suggested to Wolfram.

“No, thank you.”

“Are you still angry about Rozamblom?”

“You mean Sharp Ronny? No, why would I be?”

“So you are still angry.”

“Of course, I am! He intended to get ransom for me and threatened to kill me if it wasn’t paid!”

“Oh, Wolfram, I am sure murder wasn’t included in his plans.”

Wolfram’s eyes went ablaze, like fiery emeralds. “You think I’d have been happier if he’d made me a prostitute?! How dare you?!”

“That’s not what I meant!”

“No, that’s exactly what you meant!” Wolfram hissed.

“No, I meant that he would have tried to release you at the best available port as soon as possible.”

“Nonsense.”

Eldara sighed. “I understand how you feel, but I need men like him. His leadership skills and navigational knowledge are first class. I offered him a deal, he accepted it. That’s all there’s to it.”

“Yeah,” Wolfram muttered angrily, “that’s all there’s to it. And it pisses me off.”

**oOo_Two Days Later_oOo**

They reached Maria’s Port early in the morning, at about five. The men started unloading the ship, carrying the goods onto the shore. They were mostly done when Gunter and Cecilie appeared from the local tavern.

“Wolfie!” Cecilie exclaimed, waving at Wolfram, who was standing next to Rendar, checking how the horse had undergone the voyage. She rushed forward and grabbed the blond into a hug.

“Yes, Mother,” Wolfram said, returning the hug, “I’m glad to see you, too.”

“You’ve grown even more,” she said. “You’re probably taller than me now!”

“Really?” Wolfram wondered. He didn’t have time to dwell on the thought because, the next moment, his attention was completely usurped by an excited Gunter. Wolfram hadn’t expected either Gwendal or Yuuri to show up at the port, but he still found himself exhaling in relief when he saw no sign of them.

Cecilie turned to Eldara. “Eldara, sweetheart, how was the trip?” she asked, holding her hand out for Eldara to kiss.

The duke kissed her hand then raised his head. “Thank you, I can’t complain. Everything went smoothly.”

“When I saw you last, I did have a feeling that we would see each other again in Shin Makoku,” Cecilie told him. “Gwendal will be overjoyed to see you.”

“I have no doubt about that,” Eldara answered just as cheerfully.

“Is that your new horse?” Gunter asked when he saw Wolfram patting down the same mare over and over.

“Yes, it’s Eldara’s gift. Her name is Rendar, remember?”

“Oh, that’s right. We’ve actually brought Kerda with us. We thought you’d have missed her.”

Wolfram’s eyes sparkled. “Of course I have! Where’s she?”

“Down at the tavern stables, with other horses.” Fascinated, Gunter brushed Rendar’s mane. “It’s a splendid beast.”

“It really is,” Wolfram agreed. “Her gait is superbly soft.”

Together, Wolfram and the duke’s men and also several guards that Gunter and Cecilie brought with them, made up a large group. Despite the fact that Gunter and Cecilie had brought five spare horses and a cart with them, the guards still had to rent almost all the horses they could find in nearby inns and taverns. This time, Eldara had refused to rent a carriage since he realized that he would be the only one using it.

Wolfram rode Kerda. He had lent Rendar to Conrart. Two days of horse travelling and inns awaited them.

**oOo_Two Days Later_oOo**

Wolfram wasn’t able to contain his excitement when he saw the turrets of Blood Pledge Castle appear on the horizon. It had been such a long time when he saw the sight last. They entered the capital, passed the painfully-familiar town streets and wound their way up around the mountain. The gate was open and they filed into the yard.

The news of their arrival had already reached everyone, and, despite the cold spring weather, nearly the entire household was waiting outside to greet them. The king and Gwendal were standing side by side in front of everyone else. The Great Sage was a little farther, with the rest of the household.

“Your Majesty,” Wolfram said awkwardly, sliding off Kerda, throwing the reins to the stable boy. “It’s nice to see You again.”

“Indeed,” Gwendal said in a loud voice when Yuuri stayed silent. “Welcome back.”

“Wow, Wolfram,” Yuuri grunted out, having overcome his initial shock. He stared at the blond for a few more seconds then rushed over to him and grabbed him into a fierce hug. A few moments later he let go of Wolfram and took a good look at him again. “Amazing! You’ve…grown?” he said not quite managing to grasp the baffling changes in the other man. His eyes set on Wolfram’s face. The familiar green eyes were looking back at him, and Yuuri thought that he could read bewilderment, sadness, and anxiety. Or maybe it was just how Yuuri himself felt.

The king realized that he was staring, and it was becoming embarrassing, so he punched the blond’s shoulder playfully. “You just look at all that muscle!” he exclaimed again.

“It’s the coat,” Wolfram muttered awkwardly. There went his initial resolve to act reserved and distant with the king. He had not expected such a warm greeting and now wasn’t certain how to react. His cheeks, though, tinted pink at the compliments – he had always loved them. Wolfram looked over at Eldara to see his reaction, but the duke’s interest was solely in Gwendal. The two were staring at each other. Finally, Gwendal broke the eye contact with a soft inclination of his head.

“Your Grace,” he said, a deep wrinkle of concern lining his forehead.

Eldara bowed his head in answer. “Your Highness.”

Everyone was ushered into the castle and then the readied baths to wash off the dirt of the long journey. After that, they joined the household in the dining room. Everyone had been invited to the table: the duke’s men and Wolfram’s guards. Gunter had made certain that the cuisine would be as neutral as possible.

Wolfram shared his experience of the sea trip and how the medicine he had been given had made a huge difference. Gisela was interested in its composition, and one of the duke’s men, in garbled dialect, explained what the medicine entailed. Gisela asked one of the maids to bring her some paper and a pen to write down the exact details. 

They dined leisurely and long after they were done, conversation continued into the late evening, no one leaving the table. The chatter was polite and of no importance. Conrart was the first person to finally leave the dining room, and other people started following his example. Gwendal, who could hardly contain his wish to have a matter-of-fact conversation with von Ashira, had to act courteous and let him get some well-deserved rest in the guest room. He also wanted to talk to Wolfram, but the tiredness on his brother’s face was unmistakable.

\- - - 

Eldara entered von Voltaire’s office. Closing the door behind himself, he took in the charmless, heavy furniture. The colors were dark but there was a large window on the left wall, covering most of it. It was sealed for winter yet it was cold in the office. Eldara thought whether it was von Voltaire’s masochistic way to maintain his endurance or it was something that he had used to long time ago and didn’t even notice now. It had to be hot in here in summer as well.

Von Voltaire had pushed his chair away from the desk and stood up to welcome him. Walking towards him, von Ashira inconspicuously tried to discover any possible hiding places for yarn and knitting-needles. They had to be either in the cabinet on the bottom behind the tiny doors or in one of the desk drawers.

“Your Grace,” Gwendal nodded, motioning to the seat in front of his desk.

“Thank you,” Eldara said, taking the seat. Gwendal sat down as well.

“To what do we owe the honor of Your presence, Your Grace?” Gwendal started, getting straight to the point.

There was no mistaking the slight distaste in von Voltaire’s voice, and Eldara gave him a somewhat amused look.

“The main purpose of this visit is to ask for Wolfram’s hand in marriage.”

Gwendal’s face turned sour. He wasn’t surprised by the announcement as he had suspected that things might turn out this way. The reports that had been sent from Raizgad had indicated as much. 

Gwendal leaned back in his chair. “Is that so?”

“Yes.”

Gwendal couldn’t even find enough strength in himself to get angry with this outrageous man.

“And what does Wolfram think of this?”

“I am waiting for his answer.”

“I see.” Gwendal’s back straightened, and he put his elbows on the desk, crossing his fingers. “Your Grace, if You’re expecting my blessing, I’m afraid I must disappoint You.”

Von Voltaire’s whole posture was challenging, and Eldara felt that his visit to Shin Makoku had already paid off. “Oh, it is not exactly that, Your Highness,” he said, leaning forward as well. “I am merely informing You.”

Gwendal suddenly felt an urge to punch that smug face. “Your Grace, I will do everything that is in my power to prevent this marriage.”

The duke chuckled. He spread his hands apart. “But, Your Highness, just think about all the benefits and opportunities this union would bring to both our countries.”

Von Voltaire frowned in distaste. “I care little about said benefits when it involves my little brother.”

Eldara nodded approvingly. “That is laudable. However, there is more to this marriage than the aforementioned benefits.”

Even though Gwendal could presume what the answer would be, he was compelled to ask: “And what is that, Your Grace?”

“Mutual interest.”

Gwendal’s eyebrows rose. “Your Grace, this was the part where You were supposed to say ‘love’.”

“Was it?” the duke wondered absently. “Your Highness, I’m not so presumptuous as to speak for Wolfram, though.”

Staring at him, Gwendal leaned back in his chair again. The problem was that he didn’t know what Wolfram’s opinion was on this matter. Maybe his brother really wanted to marry this scandalous man? Gwendal frowned at the very thought. Gwendal, however, could understand why Wolfram would be enthralled by him. Von Ashira wasn’t an ordinary man. Smart and cunning, charming when he wanted to be. Despite his annoyingly arrogant demeanor, von Ashira could probably have any man he wanted. Gwendal remembered the time when he had said that von Ashira wasn’t his type. That wasn’t entirely true.

“Why Wolfram?” Gwendal asked, leaving out the honorifics.

Von Ashira hid his grin – von Voltaire had been formal to a fault but, finally, his patience had snapped. One way or another, now they were on the first-name basis.

“I like him,” Eldara said. “Isn’t this a reason enough?”

Gwendal gave him a skeptical look. “I find it hard to imagine, you being interested in a man ten years younger than yourself.”

Von Ashira shrugged. “Are you really in a position to say that? Tastes differ from person to person.”

Von Voltaire’s fingers drummed on the desk. “Wolfram isn’t obedient,” he said irritably. “If you’re looking for an easily manip-”

“I don’t particularly want him to be obedient,” Eldara denied. He smiled at Gwendal. “Obedient ones are boring.”

Von Voltaire gave him an uncertain look. There was something about von Ashira that made him uneasy. Was the man flirting with him or was it one of his common arrogant remarks and was best to be ignored? No, that wasn’t exactly that. The formal letters they had been exchanging throughout half a year had mildly been permeated by mischievous teasing. Gwendal had found the manner of the letters most annoying since he found nothing amusing in his brother and the duke’s relationship.

Von Voltaire laughed suddenly. Disbelieving, he stared at von Ashira. “Is that it? Are you doing this just because I said you were not my type?” He noted how the duke’s blue eyes darkened.

“Of course not!” Eldara denied. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“That’s it. That’s exactly what it is,” Gwendal drew his own conclusions. “I can’t believe this… And now you dare ask… I can see right through you!” he sneered.

“Can you?” the duke wondered.

“Yes! I know what it is that you really want, but just because you’re…”

“Yes? Just because I am what?” Eldara questioned when von Voltaire trailed off.

“Arrogant,” Gwendal spat. “You’re arrogant,” he repeated.

The duke’s eyebrows rose but he said nothing, continuing to play with the adornments on his sleeves.

“Aren’t you going to deny it?” Gwendal asked when the other man stayed quiet.

The duke shrugged. “I’ve been accused of this a few times before. It might just be true.”

Instead of pacifying him, the shameless admission made von Voltaire even more furious. “I ought to level Raizgad to the ground!” he spat, rising forward in his chair.

Eldara’s eyebrows rose in surprise. He had no doubts that this was in von Voltaire’s power but the man wasn’t known for flinging around random threats of such big measurements. He might have pushed von Voltaire just a little bit too far. Yet, he couldn’t help enjoying the fervent reaction.

“And you’d do it just because I’m arrogant?”

Gwendal snorted. He dropped back into his chair. He kept losing his composure because of this man, and it annoyed him greatly. “It’s one of the reasons why wars are waged – arrogance,” he said.

Eldara smiled. “Well, despite what you think of me, I don’t want war. I want peace.”

“Oh, I know what you want,” Gwendal snapped at him.

“You keep repeating that but I have to hear yet what it is you think I want,” Eldara pointed out.

“You want your petty revenge for the words I said back then. I can’t believe how immature you are!”

Rolling his eyes theatrically, Eldara sighed. “I didn’t even expect you to remember that insignificant scene.”

Gwendal’s frown deepened. “Well, it wasn’t my brightest episode.”

“Yes,” Eldara agreed readily, “I would imagine it can get really tiring, all those matchmaking efforts by Lady Cecilie.”

Irritated, Gwendal kept tapping his fingers on the desk. He wished he could just send von Ashira back to Raizgad and forget all this as if it were a bad dream. He could get rid of von Ashira by ordering him to leave but that would go against all possible etiquette. Thus, he just kept stubbornly staring at the man.

Eldara watched his petulant expressions for some time then leaned back in his chair and lowered his hands onto his lap.

“Despite what you’re thinking, it is not my intention to harm Wolfram in any way. He’s a splendid young man. He’s also smart enough to decide for himself.”

Gwendal snorted. “I’m not certain he understands who he’s dealing with.”

“Don’t make me sound as if I am some kind of a bloodthirsty monster.”

“Ah.” Gwendal inclined his head. “I didn’t mean that. I just meant that…” Gwendal trailed off, looking for the right words, and the duke rolled his eyes.

“You might not like me at all,” Eldara said, “but, in the end, it is Wolfram’s decision, isn’t it? There’s also a big chance that he will reject my proposal; he’s still got some lingering feelings for His Majesty Yuuri Shibuya.”

A little confused, Gwendal tugged at the end of his ponytail. “What is it that you’re trying to do, really?”

Eldara chuckled. “I’m trying to marry Wolfram.”

“You’re testing my patience,” Gwendal groaned. Seeing how there was no point in continuing the conversation, he stood up, indicating that the meeting was over. “I’ll be watching you,” he warned.

The duke nodded. He stood up as well. “Yes, I know. And I still want to marry him. Don’t I get additional points for my courage?”

Gwendal frowned. “This is not a game.”

Eldara smiled.

TBC


	43. Part 43

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Kyou Kara Maou! – It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I’m not making any money from writing it.  
> Warnings: yaoi (male x male), violence, swearing, angst, drama. Wolfram-centric, out of character, original character.  
> Summary: With Yuuri’s upcoming birthday, Wolfram makes his decision. Where will it lead him and what is to become of them? Should eventually be Yuuri x Wolfram.  
> A/N 1: Yuuri – 18 years old. Wolfram – 21. Eldara – 32. Halea – 20. Athara – 18. Gwendal – 54.  
> A/N 2: Greta doesn’t exist.  
> A/N 3: European/American/Japanese standards all at once depending on the plot requirements.  
> A/N 4: A tendency to ignore the anime/manga and supplement the story with my own imagined facts.  
> A/N 5: Season III is not taken into consideration, except for the fact that Wolfram’s uncle exists.  
> A/N 6: The umlaut in Gunter’s name is a bother.

**Bloom**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Anonymously Awesome

Part 43

Shinou’s Temple was a strange, angular building. The walls were dark, and the high-set windows few. The temple was, however, well-preserved and looked-after – one would never think that the building was over a thousand years old. Eldara wondered if they were going to be allowed to look around inside the temple. 

A row of evergreens lined the right side of the temple. There was also a garden that stretched further behind the building and into the valley. 

As the party drew nearer, the temple appeared to be bigger than it had seemed at first. As the riders drew ever closer, the priestesses gathered on the stairs. Ulrike, the high priestess, stood in front of others, while they waited for the men to come closer. It was incredible that after all these years she still looked like a little girl.

When Demons spoke of their first king, they spoke with respect. It was the man who, together with the Great Sage, had defeated the common enemy and united the nation. When people visited the capital, they usually visited his temple as well. People weren’t allowed to enter the temple, though. Despite this, it was still one of the most famous landmarks.

“Your Majesty,” the high priestess greeted with a bow when the party stopped. She bowed again. “Sage.” 

Murata answered the greeting with a nod.

“Hello Ulrike,” the king said, sliding off his black horse. “How have you been?”

Ulrike bowed again. “Everything’s fine, Your Majesty.” 

She turned to Conrad and Yozak and nodded, smiling. “Hello.”

The rest of men also climbed off their horses, and Yuuri turned to them to start the introductions. 

“This is His Grace von Ashira of Raizgad.”

Not certain what kind of greeting was proper with the high priestess, the duke bowed his head. “Pleased to meet you, milady,” he said smiling. He nodded at the rest of the Miko.

“Ah,” Ulrike said, blushing lightly. She opened her mouth to correct the way the duke had addressed her, then changed her mind and turned to the next unfamiliar person. “And who is this gentleman?”

“Karela Ine, the captain of my suite,” Eldara introduced him.

“Pleased to meet you, milady,” the captain said, bowing respectfully.

“Likewise,” the priestess returned the greeting.

She motioned at the heavy temple door. “Would Your Majesty like to proceed?”

Surprised, the duke glanced at the king. Sensing his expectant look, Yuuri nodded graciously. “I think we would indeed want to see the inside of the temple, if we may?”

“Your Majesty needn’t ever ask,” Ulrike said, ushering all the priestesses back into the temple, making way on the stairs for the men.

Yozak stayed to look after the horses, and the rest of the party started climbing the stairs. Murata thought about staying back as well, then decided to follow the others – it had been a long time since he had visited the temple. It was probably going to be an even longer period until he saw it again as he was going back to Earth tomorrow. Yuuri had decided not to attend the university, but Murata felt that it was a mistake. He didn’t manage to convince the king otherwise either. The Great Sage was returning to Earth alone. 

Eldara was surprised to see that, from the inside, the temple looked much bigger than from the outside. The large dome, supported by huge pillars, seemed never-ending, the halls were wide and spacious. The air inside the temple was charged with some kind of magic, it felt as if the walls were humming with tension. This may have been the reason why the temple showed no signs of aging. The strangest thing, however, was the waterfall cascading over the back wall of the temple. A thick stream of water flowed right from the ceiling, down the wall, and disappeared in a small pool on the floor. Since the duke hadn’t noticed any outward signs of the waterfall, he thought that this was either a hi-tech fountain, or, again, some kind of strange magic. 

In front of the eccentric waterfall there was a small stage with a crystal ball on it. This was where the high priestess communicated with the soul of the first king and proclaimed his will unto the nation. His current will, in the form of an adolescent boy with dark eyes and hair, was standing right in front of the crystal ball, poking at it. Eldara found it hilarious.

Yuuri felt himself being watched and turned to meet the duke’s eyes. Eldara smiled at him, and the king smiled back, albeit a little uncertainly. Yuuri found von Ashira somewhat unpleasant. The duke was intimidating and Yuuri could not shake off the feeling that the man was looking down on him. Yuuri wondered if others felt similarly when in his presence. Even the duke’s captain, Karela, seemed unapproachable. 

Wolfram, however, wasn’t bothered by the duke at all. Yozak got along with Karela tremendously – it was even scary how well the two got along. Yuuri poked the crystal ball again and watched the rainbow colors ripple through it. He wished Wolfram had also taken the sightseeing tour – that would have definitely made it more bearable. Wolfram had actually wanted to go, but Gwendal had thwarted his plans by saying that he had something to discuss with Wolfram.

After they were given a brief tour of the temple and had their questions on the installations and architecture answered, the Miko led them outside to the garden behind the temple.

The garden wasn’t big; its beginning was marked by evergreens that mostly grew in the shadow of the temple. Further away from the building, there were various fruit trees and, in the middle of the garden, a large fountain. The fountain was most peculiar: its base was octagonal, it wasn’t high and it didn’t really spray water. Well, it did but not like any other fountain Eldara had seen.

Fascinated, he came closer to take a look at it. The water was dancing. More precisely, instead of cascading and falling, the water gathered into a shape of a small dancing woman. The transparent water figure danced slowly, its alluring movements compelling one to watch and marvel at its beauty. The weather was still quite cold so patches of snow dotted the ground irregularly, and there were also some fragments of ice sparkling inside the dancing water woman. One moment the ice was in her hair, the other in her arm or leg.

“Magnificent,” Eldara said with admiration, and Yuuri felt proud. He hoped, however, that the duke wouldn’t ask how the fountain worked since he had no idea.

The duke stared at the fountain then took off his right glove and reached out to touch the water. Karela cleared his throat loudly, and the duke’s hand stopped midway. Eldara turned to look at the high priestess.

“Is it safe to touch it?” he asked.

Ulrike nodded. “Yes, Your Grace, it’s absolutely harmless.”

The duke played with the fountain for a few minutes, enthralled. Yuuri was glad he did – it made the man seem more approachable. From the outside, von Ashira appeared to be a man who had all aspects of his life under perfect control. Only this episode and the few answers to nature’s calls on the way to the temple had indicated him to be less statuesque.

At the end of the garden the earth was plowed and ready for gardening. Like most monasteries, this one was no exception; the Miko grew most of their food. Yuuri explained that they primarily lived off the donations from the kingdom, but they were also supported by the local community since the Miko not only propagated the Original King but also offered their help through treating a variety of illnesses.

After looking around the garden, the party bid their farewells and left for Blood Pledge Castle. On their way, they were also going to do some sightseeing in the capital. They planned to circle the capital and enter it from the opposite side, the one the duke and the captain hadn’t seen yet.

Yuuri wondered why exactly von Ashira had arrived at Shin Makoku. It didn’t really seem that he was here just to sightsee but he didn’t appear to be here on business either. Maybe Gwendal knew more – he and the duke had spent the whole morning talking. After their conversation Gwendal had become as gloomy as death itself. Yuuri had wanted to ask him what they had talked about and what happened, but Gwendal had actually brushed him off, ordering Wolfram to come to his study immediately. And so Yuuri had left the two of them there and joined the sightseeing party instead. He hadn’t planned to spend his day travelling but he hadn’t visited Shinou’s Temple in a while and it was a good opportunity.

When they entered the city, Yozak took over a guide’s responsibilities again. With great enthusiasm and pride he kept pointing at buildings and streets and dished out information. The king couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something a bit off with the way Yozak kept glancing at Ine. The duke and the captain rode side by side, yet, for some reason, it felt as if he was mostly talking to Karela. It was as if Yozak was trying to gift-wrap the city and present it to the captain. Their interaction had caused the duke to throw them a few amused glances. By the time they approached Blood Pledge Castle, Yuuri had strongly started suspecting a romance between the two of them.

The sightseeing party ended their tour and entered the premises of Blood Pledge Castle as Wolfram was finishing the ninth circle in the yard on Kerda. Half an hour ago, he had been riding Rendar.

At the sight of the returning party, Wolfram urged his horse towards the men. Once he was closer, Eldara saw his face and knew at once that Wolfram wanted to have a word with him. The blond didn’t appear to be angry, but, it was very likely that, Wolfram hadn’t expected him to reveal his intentions to von Voltaire. Eldara, however, doubted that – Wolfram knew him well enough to presume that that he would intentionally make things tenser. “More difficult” was closer to the truth, Eldara had to admit. His perverse interest in annoying and teasing von Voltaire was going over the board. Eldara sighed.

Yuuri listened to Eldara and Wolfram arranging to meet after dinner. He still kept doing double takes every time he saw Wolfram. The change was amazing, and it was making him feel even more awkward. Before meeting Wolfram, he had badly wished to talk to the blond. He had imagined that they would sit down and clear all the misunderstandings and root out any lingering bitterness. There were some things he had to admit to Wolfram as well. The problem was that he was either busy or it was Wolfram who was busy. The blond spent an awful lot of time with the duke, which was becoming annoying. 

They were acting familiarly with each other and, for the hundredth time, Yuuri wondered whether his general impression of the duke and the information he had received about him was faulty. Gwendal had made it his business to ensure that the King of Shin Makoku understood what kind of a manipulative and ruthless bastard von Ashira was. He had even shown Yuuri plenty of documents supposedly proving that fact. Yet, no harm had come to Wolfram during his stay in Raizgad. There had even been rumors about Wolfram intending to marry Halea von Ashira, which, thankfully, had also appeared to be just that – a baseless rumor. Wolfram had obviously been well-cared for and had maintained very friendly ties with the duke. Yuuri wondered if Gunter’s and Gwendal’s animosity towards the duke had a leg to stand on. Yuuri hoped he would find out in the evening.

\- - -

Relaxing in the bath, Gwendal closed his eyes. The last few days had been spent in turmoil. It was not that he hadn’t known what was happening between Wolfram and von Ashira. He hadn’t, however, suspected that it would be so serious. Wolfram had confirmed von Ashira’s intentions. When asked what Wolfram’s thoughts concerning the marriage were, his brother looked a little sheepish and said that he wasn’t certain. Wolfram’s uncertainty had infuriated Gwendal at first, but he had calmed down by telling himself that this, at least, meant that he had all the chances to thwart the disagreeable union. The problem was that as soon as he had told Wolfram that the idea was preposterous and not even worth considering, Wolfram became stubborn about it and refused to decline the proposition. Gwendal had spent over an hour trying to persuade Wolfram about the urgency to drop the engagement “like a hot potato” but the blond didn’t budge. He was still thinking about it.

The sudden sound of the door opening and closing indicated that Gwendal wasn’t alone anymore in the royal baths. A familiar figure approached the edge of the pool, and Gwendal groaned mentally. Right. The tourists had finished their sightseeing. How could he have forgotten? There went all hopes of a peaceful and relaxing bath.

Von Ashira nodded respectfully. “Your Highness.”

“Your Grace.”

The duke lowered his towel and toiletries onto the nearby bench and started undressing. His movements were neither too fast nor too slow and they weren’t provocative at all, but Gwendal found himself following Eldara’s hands with awkward curiosity. It seemed that the duke was aware of his attention but said nothing.

Finally, completely naked, von Ashira slid into the pool. Gwendal tried not to stare, but found himself unable to tear his eyes away. Von Ashira was an exceedingly handsome man with a well-built body. Gwendal’s traitorous mind supplied him with an image of Wolfram and von Ashira together in bed. The idea upset him, but he could not help but wonder whether it was good sex that had attracted Wolfram to this man.

Disgusted with himself, Gwendal turned his head aside and pretended to be interested in the row of toiletries next to him. He could hear the duke wetting the sponge and then starting to wash himself. The most sensible thing to do was leave the baths. Yet, the idea made Gwendal feel as if he was considering an escape or capitulation, so he stayed.

From time to time, Gwendal would glance over at von Ashira. He was more or less certain that at any given moment von Ashira was going to suggestively ask him to wash his back. He even wanted the duke to ask him so that he could arrogantly refuse and demonstratively leave the baths.

Nothing of the sort happened, though. Eldara finished washing himself, climbed out, rinsed his body a couple of times with the water from the nearby barrel, dried himself with a towel, dressed in a bathrobe and left. He hadn’t even asked whether he had spoken to Wolfram and what had come of it.

 _Arrogant bastard_ , Gwendal decided once more. Von Ashira had obviously known how and what Wolfram would answer.

On his way out, the duke passed the king, who gave him a curious look and nodded at him. At the sight of Yuuri, Gwendal quickly left the pool and started drying himself. As soon as von Ashira’s steps were out of earshot, Yuuri approached Gwendal.

“What did you two talk about in the morning?”

“In the morning…?” Gwendal drawled, wrapping a towel around his waist. “In the morning…” He took another towel to dry his hair. “His Grace simply expressed his admiration of Shin Makoku.”

Yuuri gave Gwendal an insulted look. “No, really, what did he say?”

Not meeting his king’s eyes, Gwendal finished drying his hair. He picked up his clothes. “He said nothing of interest.” 

Yuuri turned away to give Gwendal some privacy while he was shrugging on his bathrobe. He was astounded by the lie. It was the first time that Gwendal was lying so obviously and for some reason Von Voltaire was also angry. Whether he was angry about being questioned or about something von Ashira had said Yuuri wasn’t certain. 

“Perhaps it would be a good idea to ask Wolfram,” Gwendal offered. Once the suggestion had left his mouth, he wondered why he had said that. Was he still angry with Shibuya? Was he still blaming the king for making Wolfram to go through termination of their engagement? Quite possibly.

Gwendal groaned audibly at the absurdity of the situation and left the baths at high speed before the surprised king could regain his balance and start questioning him again.

\- - - 

It was unusually quiet at the dinner table. Even Gunter, who normally made certain to create the amiable atmosphere, seemed gloomy. Yuuri tried to break the silence by talking about the day’s sightseeing exploits, and von Ashira politely joined in. About ten minutes later, however, the king’s enthusiasm and the flow of words petered out. The duke managed to keep the conversation going for another ten minutes. At one point he had tried to involve Wolfram into the conversation as well, but von Bielefeld gave him an angered stare and kept his mouth purposely shut.

\- - - 

“Why did you tell him?” Wolfram asked as soon as Eldara entered his room. 

Eldara’s brow rose at the accusing tone, and he gave the blond a cold look. “Was I not supposed to?” he asked, closing the door. “I see nothing secretive in my wish to marry you.”

This kind of frankness made Wolfram think that his dissatisfaction was ridiculous. Eldara indeed had the right to tell his brother about his plans. The problem was that Wolfram suspected that Eldara informed Gwendal just because he felt like annoying him.

“Don’t give me that,” Wolfram grunted. He flopped into the armchair at the window ungracefully. He motioned for the duke to take the armchair next to his, but Eldara remained standing. “I know you just wanted to upset him.”

“Well, yes, that too.”

Wolfram rolled his eyes.

“So what did he tell you?” Eldara asked.

“That you’re a manipulative and calculating bastard,” Wolfram said. “Oh, there was something about being a cunning and ruthless sexual maniac as well and that I, under no circumstances, shall marry you. In short, nothing you wouldn’t have expected him to say.”

Unimpressed, Eldara nodded. “Indeed. I suppose I should have asked about your answer instead.”

“I told him that I was still thinking.”

“Hmm…” Eldara drawled slowly while moving towards the blond’s wardrobe. “And I suppose he told you to stop thinking immediately?”

“That he did. I, however, told him that thinking is my constitutional right.”

Eldara frowned at him. “Your what?”

“My constitutional right. That’s democracy for you.”

“Shin Makoku is a kingdom, it’s a monarchy,” Eldara pointed out, laughing.

“Hahh…” Wolfram sighed. Maybe a few hours ago he would have found it funny as well, but now it wasn’t funny anymore. “Not any longer. I think now it’s a democratic monarchy or monarchic democracy, whichever suits you best.”

“What kind of nonsense are you spouting?”

“Shibuya is…” Wolfram threw his hands up in the air, as if trying to grasp the absurdity of the idea. “He’s doing this again! He wants people to vote for laws… He wants referendums.”

“Hmm…” Eldara shrugged. He didn’t have much to add to the idea. He motioned at the wardrobe. “May I?” 

“Of course.”

Eldara opened the wardrobe to peruse its contents. “The problem with that is,” he said, “that most people don’t know what’s good for them. They think they do, but they don’t.”

“Yes, exactly!” Wolfram agreed with him.

“That’s why we do their thinking for them.”

Wolfram eyed the duke’s back. “That was sarcasm, wasn’t it?”

“Well… A little bit,” Eldara said chuckling. “We hate peasants who are too clever for their own good, don’t we?”

“Ugh. Don’t be nasty.”

“And yet we want to keep our position as landlords and masters, don’t we?”

Wolfram gave Eldara’s back a morose look. Eldara was talking lightly, without restrictions. It angered Wolfram, who was used to solemn discussions of the matter and constant repetitions of the responsibilities of the nobility. Why exactly Eldara’s way of talking angered him, he wasn’t able to tell.

“What is this?”

Eldara turned around and Wolfram saw him holding a hanger with a pink nightie in his hand.

Wolfram’s face flushed in embarrassment. Eldara was giving him a curious look that bordered between incredulity and amazement.

“Ah, that...” the blond muttered, his face reddening further.

“Is it yours?” Eldara asked even though Wolfram’s face already said that yes, it was.

Wolfram nodded. “It’s… Erm…” he drawled uncertainly, wondering whether he should tell Eldara to leave it alone or to tell him the truth. “I thought that if I wore it, Yuu…the king would…” Wolfram trailed off, not finishing since it was too shameful to remember.

Incredulous, the duke turned the pink nightie this way and that. His mind supplied the image of the blond wearing it and he grinned. “So you would put it on and wait for him to come to your bed?”

Wolfram grunted. He was growing so flustered that even his ears had gone red. “No, I’d put it on and sneak into his bed.” He turned away at the look on Eldara’s face.

The duke turned his attention back to the nightie. He shook the hanger, making the pink, frilly fabric flutter in the air. It smelled somewhat stale. “Wearing this…thing, sneaking into his bed…. You were incredibly…bold.” The word “desperate” was on Eldara’s tongue but he didn’t voice it.

Wolfram shook his head, chuckling. “No, I was incredibly stupid.”

“Hmm…” The duke took the nightie off the hanger, returned the hanger back into the wardrobe then walked over to the bed and threw the nightie on the duvet. “Put it on?”

Startled a little, Wolfram shifted his gaze from the nightie to Eldara. “Um…no.”

“Why not? You used to wear it.”

“Yes, ‘ _used_ ’… It was stupid of me and now it’s probably too small anyway.”

“It won’t be – it’s pretty wide and the fabric can stretch.”

“Erm, no, I won’t wear it,” Wolfram said, blushing again.

Eldara grinned at him. “Yes, you will.” He noticed the blond sinking deeper into the armchair and laughed. “C’mon what’s the big deal? Just put it on.”

“Mmno.”

“Just put it on for the last time and throw it away,” Eldara suggested, not giving in.

“You just want to make fun of me,” Wolfram accused him, pouting.

“A little,” Eldara agreed. “But it’s not why I’m asking you to put it on.”

A mischievous spark lit up the duke’s eyes and it made Wolfram hesitate.

“Promise you won’t laugh,” Wolfram demanded, leaving the armchair.

“I can’t promise that,” Eldara said. “I can only promise not to laugh too loudly,” he teased. “C’mon just put it on.”

“Turn away,” Wolfram demanded, walking to the bed to take the nightie.

The request was ridiculous, but Eldara turned to face the wall without a word of protest. He half-expected Wolfram to set the nightie on fire or throw it out of the window but, when he was allowed to turn back around, he was wearing it.

Wolfram frowned at Eldara when he heard him chuckle. He did fit into the nightie, but it was too short now and was stretched uncomfortably over his shoulders and chest. That wasn’t the main problem, though.

“Why are you still wearing your trousers underneath?” Eldara asked, amused. “Take them off. Your underwear too.”

Wolfram shook his head. “No.” Eldara advanced closer to him, and the blond glared at him.

“Don’t tell me you don’t want me to fuck you in it.” Eldara purred, his hands brushing over the blond’s chest, over the nipples that were protruding from behind the stretched fabric.

Wolfram blushed, his eyes widening. “That’s not why I put it on.”

“Liar,” Eldara said, grinning. His hands left Wolfram’s chest to lift the nightie. He started fumbling with the blond’s belt. Wolfram still looked uncertain, and the duke leaned in to give him a reassuring kiss. Once undone, he opened his lover’s trousers and pushed them, together with his underwear down the blond’s hips. Wolfram stepped out of the clothes and kicked them aside. 

“Might feel a bit drafty,” the duke chuckled, his hands slipping back under the nightie and sliding up his waist.

“I will make sure you feel as drafty as I do,” Wolfram countered, his hands starting to work on Eldara’s jacket.

Wolfram was already erect. Eldara pressed their mouths together. In a few moments, he felt the blond’s hands slip under his already unbuttoned shirt. He broke the kiss and, with Wolfram’s help, took his jacket off. The blond’s arms wrapped themselves around the duke’s shoulders. Wolfram’s mouth covered his and he suddenly seemed desperate, his kisses strong and demanding.

In a moment, Eldara shed his shirt and kicked his boots off. There was something about Wolfram and the garment. Despite the blond hesitancy to put it on, it was clear that, in the past, he had imagined Shibuya giving in. In his sexual fantasies he and the nightie had probably been victorious countless times, the king taking him over and over.

“Ah!” Wolfram grunted when Eldara pushed him towards the bed.

The duke’s hands were groping him through the nightie, squeezing, stroking, touching. The thin layer of fabric between their chests was most exciting. They flopped into the bed. Eldara started taking his trousers off. Wolfram lifted the hem of the nightie, intending to take it off. Eldara pushed his hands down.

“No, leave it on.”

“Pervert,” Wolfram said, chuckling. “Don’t think that I’ll wear something like this again.”

“Once is enough,” Eldara agreed, flinging the front of the nightie higher up, revealing the previously hidden length again. Wolfram’s lust-hooded eyes were following him as he crouched lower in between the blond’s legs. He seized the erection and licked the tip. Wolfram’s eyelids fluttered but he kept his eyes open, watching Eldara’s tongue wash over his penis. The erotic sight of the man pleasuring him with his mouth was probably as arousing and intense as the fellatio itself. 

Eldara sucked him, playing with his jewels, making him harden more and more. He, however, had no intention of making Wolfram come this way. He let the length slip out of his mouth. Wolfram shifted impatiently, wishing he returned to what he had been doing.

“Do you want me here?” he asked, brushing over the puckered entrance between the blond’s legs. He saw Wolfram shiver at the touch.

“Yes,” the blond said, spreading his legs lightly.

Eldara’s thumb rubbed over the twitching entrance to excite him even more. “You’ve become so lewd…”

“Is that bad?”

The duke chuckled. He slipped one finger inside the blond and watched him arch his back in pleasure of being penetrated. “You keep asking me that…” Eldara muttered, his voice serious. “No, it’s good. You’re more honest this way.”

He played with the blond for some time, pushing his finger in and out, rubbing, rolling, and watching how Wolfram’s erection was getting bigger and fuller; how his balls swelled. Wolfram’s breathing had become faster too.

“Put it in,” Wolfram said, spreading his legs wider apart, showing he was ready for a much bigger toy. The fingers left him, the duke shifting closer to him. A blunt head pressed against him instead. It started filling him slowly. When it seemed it was fully sheathed inside him, Wolfram exhaled softly. Then it slid even deeper, Wolfram’s mouth opening in a silent ‘oh’.

He loved anal sex. Eldara had warned him not to have it too often due to hemorrhoids or fissures occurring in some men but he was tougher than Humans. He could handle it. He loved when he was filled and Eldara was panting above him. It felt incredible, just like now; the movement inside him…the heat.

Wolfram’s eyes opened when the other man slipped out of him.

“Turn around,” Eldara said, lowering the blond’s legs to the mattress.

Wolfram complied quickly, getting on his four. Hands settled on his hips and he felt himself being maneuvered, his thighs being spread wider apart. Then Eldara’s penis slid back into him, forcing a satisfied groan to leave his mouth. It went even deeper in that position. Wolfram lowered his upper body to the mattress while his backside stayed up in the air.

Eldara started fucking him in earnest at once, and Wolfram was waiting to feel that particular tingle that signaled that he was nearing his orgasm.

Panting, Wolfram rubbed his face against the pillow – sweat was stinging his eyes. Yes, he could feel it starting to spread through his body. He was almost there.

Eldara was balls-deep in Wolfram when he noticed the door open. He stopped moving, and his eyes fixed on Shibuya’s shocked face. Eldara was no less surprised. Wolfram saw the king as well and grunted something out, his face reflecting his horrified confusion. His body, though, decided that it was the perfect time to come, which he did, and quite spectacularly. Eldara frowned at the intense feeling of Wolfram’s muscles squeezing around him.

Without saying a word, his eyes wide as moons, Yuuri fled the room.

Eldara carefully pulled out. The look of pure disbelief on the king’s face made him go soft. “Uh. What the hell?” he muttered, surprised both by being caught in the act by Yuuri Shibuya of Shin Makoku and Wolfram coming at that exact moment.

“You can fucking say that again,” Wolfram grunted, pushing him away. He flopped on his back. He hoped this was just a nightmare. He blinked dazedly at the ceiling then turned over. Everything just seemed surreal.

“He must have heard us miles ahead,” Eldara said still confused, Shibuya’s shocked face in his mind. He settled next to Wolfram. What exactly was so shocking about him and Wolfram having sex? “Why did he enter?”

“Because he’s one clueless idiot and because he has never expected I could really…” Wolfram exhaled into the pillow in one breath. “Ah, fuck it,” he moaned in distress.

Eldara stroked the blond’s back soothingly. Wolfram lay face-first in the bedding; his upper arms crossed over his head. He seemed to have gone into shock.

“Was he really here?” Wolfram finally managed a few minutes later.

“Yes.”

Eldara stroked the younger man’s back again. Shibuya had left as soon as he had regained his senses but not before having gotten an eyeful. Wolfram had lost his sense of reality. It was strange how his body had reacted against his will.

“Tell me I’m dreaming.”

“I’m afraid I can’t say that,” Eldara said softly. He leaned down to press a kiss to the blond’s shoulder blade. “It’s not such a big deal, Wolfram.” 

The blond’s head whipped around to glare at him. The eyes were reddish and teary and Eldara couldn’t help reaching out to stroke the blond hair. He could see that the action made Wolfram want to smack at his hand but the younger man didn’t dare. With a sigh, the duke retracted his hand. Instead, he lay down next to the blond and covered them with the sheets. It was best to try and sleep it off.

Wolfram lay still for a few minutes then shifted closer to Eldara. Sensing his discomfort, the duke closed the distance between their bodies and wrapped his arm around the blond’s back. 

TBC


	44. Part 44

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Kyou Kara Maou! – It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I’m not making any money from writing it.  
> Warnings: yaoi (male x male), violence, swearing, angst, drama. Wolfram-centric, out of character, original character.  
> Summary: With Yuuri’s upcoming birthday, Wolfram makes his decision. Where will it lead him and what is to become of them? Should eventually be Yuuri x Wolfram.  
> A/N 1: Yuuri – 18 years old. Wolfram – 21. Eldara – 32. Halea – 20. Athara – 18. Gwendal – 54.  
> A/N 2: Greta doesn’t exist.  
> A/N 3: European/American/Japanese standards all at once depending on the plot requirements.  
> A/N 4: A tendency to ignore the anime/manga and supplement the story with my own imagined facts.   
> A/N 5: Season III is not taken into consideration, except for the fact that Wolfram’s uncle exists.  
> A/N 6: The umlaut in Gunter’s name is a bother.

**Bloom**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Anonymously Awesome

 

Part 44

“Why did you tell me to ask Wolfram about von Ashira’s business here?” Yuuri demanded as soon as he entered von Voltaire’s study. “Why would Wolfram know?”

Gwendal, who had been reading a letter, lowered it to the desk. While thinking about his answer and whether he indeed needed to answer, he stared at the king. It was obvious that Shibuya had found out. Von Voltaire pursed his lips in distaste – at least he hadn’t been the one to tell Shibuya. It was quite strange, though, that the king was so agitated by it. It was barely seven in the morning and, judging by his reddish eyes and the grayish color of his skin Shibuya had barely slept. 

“Why don’t we have some coffee first, Your Majesty?”

“I keep telling you to call me ‘Yuuri’!” Yuuri burst out. “And I don’t want coffee! I want to know why von Ashira was…” Yuuri stumbled over his words. “Uh… Why he and Wolfram were…” he trailed off in exasperated discomfort, not knowing how to proceed. “Yesterday I…”

Von Voltaire’s hands closed into fists. “Yes? Yesterday?”

Yuuri blinked at him, his agitation turning into uncertainty. “Uh.”

Gwendal stared at the youngster in front of him. Obviously, Shibuya had caught the two in action. And the thing they had been doing had clearly been beyond a friendly peck on the lips.

“Yesterday was good weather for travelling,” Yuuri said cheerfully.

Gwendal slapped himself on his forehead. He decided to just get on with it. “Von Ashira has proposed to Wolfram. As things stand, it seems that Wolfram will agree.”

Shibuya’s reddened eyes were so wide now that von Voltaire found it amusing. He must have looked the same when he had read Gunter’s report on von Ashira and Wolfram’s relationship first. He sighed. Now he had two choices – to either lie or tell the truth. Gwendal wondered if von Ashira was clairvoyant; despite everything, he had underestimated the man yet again. 

“What’s so special about him?” Yuuri demanded moments later, his voice irritated. He waved his hands about and flopped into the chair opposite Gwendal’s desk. “There are tons of men out there, why would Wolfram go for von Ashira?”

Gwendal’s brow rose. And Yuuri was asking him of all people? “I wouldn’t know,” he said, clearing his throat meaningfully.

Yuuri blanched at the sound. Sex, he thought, the duke must be great in bed. Yesterday’s scene from Wolfram’s room hit him like a brick between the eyes again. Now, this wasn’t fair, Yuuri decided. He had no experience in the matter. None whatsoever. He had kissed a few times in high school but had never gone past that. Maybe it was strange, maybe not, but he had more opportunities to have sex in this world than in his Japanese hometown. Here were thousands of young women interested in him. The problem was that their interest was solely in his status and gold. Sometimes, while visiting noblemen in Shin Makoku or other kingdoms he would receive offers to use the services of their concubines or prostitutes. It was a common courtesy to show this kind of hospitality. He had never taken them up on the offer. He sometimes regretted that. He sometimes did think about agreeing but there were so many questions concerning the issue that he always backed away: what if the woman had some disease? What if she got pregnant? Did people here use any protection? And if she got pregnant, would he have to marry a common prostitute? He would not want that for either himself or the kingdom. And how would that look in other kingdoms’ eyes?

He was such a hypocrite, Yuuri realized.

Yuuri jumped to his feet and started pacing the study. “I don’t like him!” he voiced his displeasure aloud. There were many more things that he didn’t like about the situation, but the duke was the most obvious one and probably the easiest problem to get rid of. That would certainly make things better.

“It’s alright, Your Majesty,” Gwendal said losing his patience with the younger man. “You don’t need to like him. Your Majesty isn’t the one he’s interested in.”

Yuuri glared at him. “So now you’re alright with that?”

Gwendal nodded. “Yes, I’m fine with that.”

“I can’t believe it! You were the one most set against von Ashira!”

“Yes, but that was before I found out how serious His Grace’s intentions are concerning Wolfram.”

“I can’t believe it!” Yuuri repeated angrily. He had expected to find an ally in von Voltaire. That plan had failed spectacularly. Now he felt upset, irritated, so…helpless. Control was slipping through his fingers. He was losing Wolfram again. He was losing him to some foreigner who was ten years Wolfram’s senior. Wolfram was going to leave Shin Makoku. He was going to live in a different kingdom, under a different king’s rule. He was going to lose the little connection they still had, even if it was only king-subject relationship. Wolfram was a von Bielefeld, the owner of a land in his kingdom and as long as he was alive, he belonged to Shin Makoku, to him. Wolfram, however, might never return to his land. There was his uncle and later…Wolfram might have a son and leave everything to him. That was probably how it was going to happen. 

“Well, their marriage is not a given yet,” Gwendal pointed out after having watched the kaleidoscope of emotions display on the young king’s face. “Wolfram still has to agree.”

This seemed to pacify Shibuya somewhat. “I will make sure that he doesn’t,” he promised.

Gwendal was tempted to ask how but then decided that he had already done enough and kept his mouth closed. He watched the king pace in circles on the rug. Shibuya appeared to be deep in thought. Von Voltaire didn’t know how he felt about the king’s sudden initiative. There was so much drama going on around Wolfram that even he felt tired.

“Why don’t we go and have breakfast with everyone?” von Voltaire suggested ten minutes later. He was finished with his letter, had also written a reply to it.

“Sounds good,” Yuuri mumbled even thought he wasn’t hungry. He waited for Gwendal to stand up and then headed for the door.

\- - -

When Yuuri’s and Wolfram’s eyes met across the breakfast table, Yuuri lowered his awkwardly. He felt an uncomfortable blush starting to spread over his face. He took big interest in his slice of bread and scrambled eggs. He heard von Ashira’s voice agreeing to something Cecilie had said. The two of them laughed, and Yuuri felt like throwing his scrambled eggs at the duke’s face. He was not ever going to forgive the man for making him witness either that scandalous sight or those bestial sounds in Wolfram’s room. He would never see Wolfram in the same way again.

Wolfram asked Gwendal to pass him the salt, and, similarly, Yuuri felt like launching his glass at the blond. That scene from Wolfram’s bedroom was haunting him, and Wolfram was at fault as well. His image had changed in Yuuri’s mind so much that the king had trouble understanding which one of them was real – the dejected one who had gone to Lesa Fort or the vulgar one who was being fucked by a man ten years his senior. Yuuri did realize that the two images had to be the same Wolfram, but his mind refused to accept it. 

The breakfast passed with Yuuri and Wolfram avoiding looking at each other and without having exchanging words. Yuuri could feel that, while he himself was awkward and irritated, Wolfram was in some kind of stupor. He felt an urge to talk to the blond and…just to make things somehow better, to somehow bring the usual Wolfram and their former relationship back. He, however, had no idea what to say. The duke, on the other hand, was as witty and cheerful as ever. He pretended nothing happened, and though it angered Yuuri, at the same time he thought that it was wise of the man.

\- - -

“How could you do that to them?” Gwendal growled at von Ashira. They were in his study, von Voltaire in his usual place behind the desk while von Ashira was sitting in front of him.

Shifting in the chair to get more comfortable, Eldara gave him an insulted look. “Why do you automatically presume that I had done it intentionally?” he spat. “I wasn’t even in my room – it’s not my business to lock the door. It was just bad luck.”

Gwendal huffed in exasperation. “Yeah, right.”

The duke put his hands up. “Think what you wish but maybe that’s for the best. Shibuya will either accept him as it is or push him away completely.”

“That’s ‘King Shibuya’ to you,” Gwendal snapped at him. “I know you did that on purpose.”

The duke rolled his eyes. “Oh, will you stop that? Repeating it won’t make me admit to anything.”

Gwendal’s eyes flashed in fury. “Who gave you the right to decide? I ought to behead you!”

“Incredible,” Eldara said, snorting. “As much as I am insulted by the threat, we both know that you won’t carry it out.” Then he sighed theatrically. “This is ridiculous. Just tell me that you hate me. I promise you will feel much better.”

“I hate you,” Gwendal spat but without much fervor. He knew he was being unreasonable, but this man kept throwing him off balance.

“See? Feeling better now?”

“No.”

With a roll of his eyes the duke stood up and went to the cabinet with the drinks. “May I?” he asked motioning at the glass door.

Von Voltaire shrugged indignantly. “Help yourself.”

Eldara inspected the collection of bottles and chose the one he had never seen before. He grabbed two glasses and carried them and the bottle to von Voltaire’s desk. He opened the bottle and, without asking, poured the glasses.

“He’s not a little boy anymore,” he said pushing one glass to Gwendal.

“And whose fault is that?” Gwendal snapped, grabbing the glass.

Eldara laughed softly, and Gwendal fought the rising blush down. He was being unreasonable. Wolfram was leading a healthy sexual life. One that was clearly more eventful than his own anyway. Gwendal took a gulp from his glass.

“Imagine your sister in his place,” he said. 

“She is pregnant and happily married,” Eldara pointed out, sipping wine from his glass.

Gwendal’s face scrunched in distaste. “It’s a completely different matter. You’ve got the von Sardas by their balls. You can manipulate Fredrick any way you like.”

The duke chuckled at the phrasing. “I was not the one to make Fredrick take interest in Halea.”

“No,” Gwendal said darkly, “he was just stupid enough.” He cleared his throat when Eldara’s eyebrows rose. “I meant stupid enough to fall into your clutches.”

Eldara laughed at the way Gwendal covered his slip-up. “Wolfram isn’t as easy to manipulate,” he assured von Voltaire with a soft smile. “If he were, I would have already married him.”

“Yes, you’ve said that before, but he’s…” Gwendal shook his head then took another sip. “I would even prefer Shibuya to you.”

Eldara rolled his eyes. “In the end,” he said, “it will never be your choice, only his.”

Gwendal glared at him at first then his face smoothed out and he nodded. Eldara was completely right.

“Once, I told Shibuya that he was not the one for Wolfram,” Gwendal said suddenly.

Eldara searched the older man’s face. Von Voltaire seemed to be brooding.

“Perhaps he was not,” Eldara agreed with a shrug. “Not the way he was before.”

Gwendal leaned back in his chair, pushed his empty glass aside and folded his hands on the desk. “You just listen to that pretentious crap come out of your mouth…”

Eldara sighed. “You won’t forgive me, will you? More wine?” he offered.

Von Voltaire took his glass and pushed it closer to the duke, who filled it again.

“On another note,” Gwendal said, taking the filled glass. “I was informed that one of my subjects has brought a woman from Raizgad.” With his free hand he rustled through the stack of papers on his desk until he found the right one. “Amaljea Oilira,” he read the name.

“Just call her ‘Ana’,” the duke advised seeing that von Voltaire, just as his half-brother, was finding it difficult to pronounce the name. “That’s what Wolfram calls her.”

“Oh.” Gwendal took a sip from his glass. He pushed the stack of papers aside again. “Is that so? Then I suppose everything has been done with your knowledge?”

Eldara nodded. “Absolutely. Wolfram and I had an agreement.”

Von Voltaire nodded as well. He sipped the wine again. “I was told they are marrying on Friday.”

Eldara smiled. “Yes, the groom has taken the trouble to invite me personally. He seems to be a peculiar man,” he added.

Gwendal chuckled. “Indeed,” he agreed. “He’s got a unique sense of humor.” He saluted Eldara with his glass. “I hope they will be happy.”

Eldara answered the salute and drank to it. Surprisingly, he was looking forward to the wedding. He knew that mostly down-to-earth soldiers would be present, which was a pleasant change from his sister’s pompous wedding. Wolfram had also been invited and accepted the invitation graciously.

Gwendal cleared his throat. “I hear his colleagues are gathering money for their wedding present. They intend to gather at least half for a house in the vicinity of Shin Makoku. The rest should be covered by Hurbert himself.”

“Oh, of course, I will chip in,” the duke agreed at once. “Whom should I give the money?”

“Mine was taken by Gurrier.”

Eldara nodded. “I see.”

\- - -

Eldara squeezed his fingers around the bat. The ball was thrown towards him, and he hit it. He watched the ball soar through the air towards Conrart, who got ready to try and catch it.

“Run!”

The duke looked around in the muddy yard.

“No, not you!” came an exasperated shout when the catcher threw his glove to the ground and started running. “Your Grace, run!”

“Oh, right!” Eldara mumbled under his breath, starting to run.

“Wrong direction!” the king shouted again.

With a sigh, Eldara turned around. Baseball was something he didn’t quite enjoy. They had already been playing for over an hour and he wished for the game to stop. Explaining the rules of the game had taken up the majority of said hour. It didn’t make much sense to the duke. First of all, one needed eighteen players. To gather that amount of people was a pain in itself. Then you had to throw the ball and hope that the opposing team wouldn’t hit it. If they did hit it, one hoped that they wouldn’t run fast enough to finish the anticlockwise circle around the four bases. 

Shibuya of Shin Makoku obviously loved the game and was trying to spread his immense enthusiasm. Eldara had been told that the king had two baseball teams which he summoned every time he wanted to play.

Some people did seem to be enjoying themselves on the muddy field. The duke tried to stay optimistic – maybe there was more sense to this than there seemed at first glance. Wolfram, however, was thoroughly bored. He, at least, knew the game rules by heart. Gwendal, meanwhile, was idly leaning on his bat, his eyes following the ball flying in the field.

“Score!” Shibuya shouted excitedly.

They were on the same team, but Eldara wondered how Shibuya could be so cheerful. The king didn’t like him – he could read that in Shibuya’s eyes. It was not surprising either – Eldara could clearly remember the overwhelming shock on Shibuya’s face back then. The exact reason for that immense shock made Eldara curious. Shibuya didn’t like him much as a person. The king, however, seemed to have some lingering or, maybe, veiled feelings for his ex-fiancé as well. When one added both factors, that overwhelming shock on Shibuya’s face became much more reasonable.

During these past few days, Eldara had reevaluated Shibuya. He was less of a naïve child he had thought him to be and more of a young man who fought against all odds. Just as Wolfram had said. Even now, with the ominous mood around, the king was doing his best to conciliate everyone through a game. In a few months, the king was going to turn nineteen. So young. Eldara tried to remember what he was like when he was nineteen. Mistrustful and cruel, he had regarded the entire world as a dangerous nuisance that had to be subdued. He still mostly operated on that basis. Shibuya was completely different. To him, the entire world consisted of potential allies until proven otherwise, in which case he would still make it his business to turn them into allies. Was it a coward’s way of life? Perhaps. Eldara wondered which lifestyle required more energy. Shibuya, however, was surrounded by capable people: von Voltaire, von Christ, The Great Sage, von Spitzweg, Gurrier and Weller. All of them were loyal to a fault. If not for these people, Shibuya would be lost. If fate were favorable to Shibuya, Wolfram would stand beside him as well. He would probably be one of his greatest assets. Maybe someday.

Eldara hit the ball again with his bat and this time it flew towards Yozak, who launched himself in its direction at once. Gurrier was enjoying himself immensely. Long ago, he had found the king’s love for baseball infectious. 

\- - -

It was a cold day. The spring was late to come to Shin Makoku. The people who were gathering in the Temple of Love were shivering. It had a hearth going, but it was still very early in the morning and it hadn’t had enough time to heat up the temple yet.

There were mostly Elite Guards and several low-ranking soldiers who had gathered to watch Hurbert and Oilira’s wedding ceremony. The front row in the middle, however, was impressively filled with nobility: Gunter von Christ, Gwendal von Voltaire, Wolfram von Bielefeld and von Ashira of Raizgad. Overall, there were about thirty people.

The priestess was in front of the altar, arranging something. On the left side of the altar, stood the military band. The trombonist was blowing out a soft, syrupy melody while everyone was waiting for the couple to show up.

The couple came right on time, the trombonist changed the tune and was joined by the other musicians. The bride looked jumpy but her face radiated happiness. She was wearing a simple white robe without any adornments. The only jewelry she had was the dark red pin in her hair. Morgan Hurbert was wearing his military uniform with all his awards and medals fastened on it. He was grinning and nodding in thanks to his friends’ loud congratulations.

The pair approached the altar and stopped in front of the priestess. The music stopped. The priestess raised her hands towards the couple, greeting them and simultaneously silencing the audience. 

“We have gathered today to witness two people binding their lives together,” she said, looking at the spectators. 

She turned to the woman. “Amaljea Oilira, are you marrying this man of your own free will?”

While sitting further, it was impossible to tell what she answered, but her lips did move, and the priestess continued the ceremony. She turned to Hurbert.

“Morgan Hurbert, are you marrying this woman of your own free will?”

“Yes, I am.”

Hurbert’s words were firm and convincing. Gwendal couldn’t help looking at von Christ. Gunter wasn’t happy with his nephew’s choice of the lowborn bride but Hurbert was also the bastard son of his sister and the only thing Gunter could do was support the newlyweds. Gwendal, watching him, thought that no matter what Wolfram would decide, he would also have to sit back and watch him marry his choice. It was better than feeling guilty for any kind of misfortune later in their marriage.

“Are you ready to share joys and mishaps with this man?”

Once again, Amaljea answered so softly that it was impossible to hear, but obviously she said the right thing since the priestess continued. She turned to Hurbert and repeated the question.

“Yes, I am,” he answered.

The priestess reached out for the white ribbon lying on the altar. She took it and dabbed its end into a golden chalice with the water from Shinou’s Temple. She held out the wet end of the ribbon for everyone to see then brushed with it over Hurbert’s forehead. She did the same to Oilira. Hurbert held out his right hand while the bride did the same with her left.

“With the First King’s permission,” the priestess said, wrapping the ribbon around their wrists, “in the name of Ranmun, I pronounce you husband and wife.”

Applause rose in the temple, everyone cheering.

“Would you like to exchange tokens?” the priestess asked the newlyweds.

“Yes, please,” Hurbert said while fishing in his pocket with his left hand. He pulled out two bracelets and gave them to the priestess.

“These are the symbols of your love for each other,” she said while putting the larger bracelet on Morgan’s left upper arm. “Cherish one another and cherish them.” She put the smaller one on Amaljea’s right arm.

Again, cheers and applause rose into the air. 

Once the ceremony was over, everyone went to the nearby tavern to celebrate the wedding. When everyone had been seated and was waiting for the food to be delivered, the husband was presented with the promised money for the love nest. Morgan, who himself had asked for such a gift, acted very surprised and even managed to squeeze out a grateful tear or two, which greatly amused his friends and colleagues who knew what kind of person he was.

The food and strong drinks started appearing on the tables, and Yozak joked in his speech about how sad he was to see one of the best men he knew lose his freedom. He wished the newlyweds all the best and everyone drank to it. 

The newlyweds sat at the end of the tavern where they could see and be seen by all the guests. Their hands were still tied by the ribbon, which was going to come off only during their wedding night. Currently, they were feeding each other and laughing at the same time.

Once the military band had satisfied their thirst and hunger, they grabbed their instruments and the merriment began. The music shook the tavern, laughter and songs filling the air.

Eldara pushed his plate away – the food was god-awful. It was some kind of meat with gravy. While the meat was alright, the gravy was a bloody mass seemingly straight from battlefield itself. He had eaten the mashed potatoes and the salad but no one was going to make him eat the rest. He washed down the taste with wine and turned to Wolfram, who was still eating.

“I am surprised that Original King stands higher than deities,” he told Wolfram. “I mean you need His permission to marry to people,” he explained when the blond gave him a blank look.

“Oh, that. It’s just a tradition. Since he was the one who founded Shin Makoku, and all citizens were His subjects we still ask His permission to marry.”

Eldara nodded. “Yes, I understood that. However, isn’t that bothersome? And have there been any cases when he denied permission?”

Wolfram thought for a moment. “To be honest, I’ve never thought about that. In fact, I don’t think they really ask for permission. They probably just go and fill the chalice with the water from His temple and that’s it.”

Eldara shrugged. “Probably. If He really didn’t want them to marry, wouldn’t He appear in front of them with storm and lightning during the wedding ceremony?” he asked chuckling.

Wolfram gave him a funny look.

“What?” the duke wondered. 

“For that He would have to possess Shibuya.”

Eldara was surprised. “Does He do that?”

“More often than you can imagine.”

“Oh. Really? I had no idea. Is this how it happens with all the kings of Shin Makoku?”

Wolfram shook his head. “No, it’s…uncommon.” 

Eldara chuckled. “In that case, it is best we married in Raizgad. I am afraid that Shibuya would really appear in front of us and smite me. You did see how shocked he was.”

Wolfram glared at him. “Don’t ever remind me of that.”

Gwendal was watching Wolfram and von Ashira interact. He could often read “Shibuya” on their lips and was wondering what they were discussing.

Since the king wasn’t there, Wolfram seemed to be more relaxed. Lately, the two would tense up at the very sight of each other. That annoyed Gwendal, who wanted some kind of progress beyond that. He was certain that there was going to be progress, but the awkwardness between the two was annoying him. Shibuya acted like a prude while Wolfram was unreasonably embarrassed. Gwendal wanted to slap them both into reality.

While Gwendal continued watching, Wolfram and von Ashira had a few more drinks and seemed to relax completely. They were laughing often at Yozak’s silly jokes, and, at some point, Wolfram joined in the song sung by the soldiers and kept hollering together with them until his throat turned hoarse. Afterwards, most soldiers left the tables and started a circle of dancers. The majority was bad at it but no one cared. 

Wolfram and Eldara joined in, attempted at a more gracious dance, but soon gave up as they kept bumping into drunken men. To tell the truth, the two weren’t very sober either. Everyone kept strutting around until they grew tired and rejoined the tables where they continued to nurse their drinks and nibble on the leftover food.

The fun continued to a little way past midnight until it was stopped by two soldiers getting into a fight over one of the tavern maids. Gwendal decided that it was about time for the guests to start dispersing and he quietly, but firmly, started urging everyone to go home. To his surprise, most of the trouble came from Wolfram, who was completely against leaving “such a great party”. He wasn’t very drunk, but his mood bordered between terrific and destructive. In the end, it was Conrart who, with a promise of a great swordfight tomorrow, managed to convince him to wrap it up.

TBC


	45. Part 45

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Kyou Kara Maou! – It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I’m not making any money from writing it.  
> Warnings: yaoi (male x male), violence, swearing, angst, drama. Wolfram-centric, out of character, original character.  
> Summary: With Yuuri’s upcoming birthday, Wolfram makes his decision. Where will it lead him and what is to become of them? Should eventually be Yuuri x Wolfram.  
> A/N 1: Yuuri – 18 years old. Wolfram – 21. Eldara – 32. Halea – 20. Athara – 18. Gwendal – 54.  
> A/N 2: Greta doesn’t exist.  
> A/N 3: European/American/Japanese standards all at once depending on the plot requirements.  
> A/N 4: A tendency to ignore the anime/manga and supplement the story with my own imagined facts.  
> A/N 5: Season III is not taken into consideration, except for the fact that Wolfram’s uncle exists.  
> A/N 6: The umlaut in Gunter’s name is a bother.

**Bloom**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Anonymously Awesome

Part 45

Wolfram woke up with a start. His eyes flew open and focused on Eldara’s face. 

“What?” he grunted, pulling his hand out of the duke’s grasp. With his heart still beating wildly, Wolfram looked around – he was in his room, in his bed, at home in Shin Makoku. It was dark. 

“You were having a nightmare,” Eldara explained.

“Did I hit you?”

“You kicked me.”

“Ah. Sorry.”

“It’s fine. The same dream again?” Eldara asked, settling back into the bedding.

Wolfram nodded. He kept having a recurring dream from back when he had been attacked in the tavern. He wasn’t certain why it had affected him so much. The dreams often varied between mostly erotic where he was being pleasured by various men to purely horrific where he was being raped. Sometimes they intertwined, and Wolfram wasn’t able to distinguish between the two versions.

“What was it this time? Was Shibuya there again?”

Wolfram racked his brain – the dream had already started slipping from his consciousness. “Yes, I think he was watching.”

The duke yawned and turned to his side, away from the blond. “Just like last time. What a voyeur.”

Wolfram snorted.

“You know,” Eldara said seriously, “you two should talk it out.”

In the darkness, Wolfram gave the duke’s back a sarcastic look. “Yeah, I can already imagine it.”

“No, you can’t,” Eldara told him, turning back round to face him. “What are you afraid of?”

Wolfram laughed bitterly. “Didn’t you see how disgusted he was?”

“No, I didn’t. He was shocked, indeed, but…”

“You don’t need to console me.”

“I am not doing that, Wolfram. I think he’s looking for a way to communicate with you, and you’re just trying to avoid it.”

“Well, of course I am! Who would want to talk about that?!”

Eldara rolled his eyes. “I agree that it may be difficult to begin with, but you don’t really need to talk about what he saw. It’s more about… restoring your relationship…making things comfortable between you again, you know? He met you very warmly when you returned,” Eldara pointed out. “He also intended to visit you in your room.”

“Why do you actually care?”

Eldara rolled his eyes. “I really wish I didn’t,” he said with a bored sigh. “Listen, Wolfram, it doesn’t matter what you want. In the end, you’re just a landowner; he’s your king and you’re his subject. 

“If I marry you…”

Eldara laughed, not letting him finish. “You will still be his subject! Forever, or at least until one of you dies. You’re loyal, Wolfram, we both know that. You’re the one who would come to his side first if trouble in Shin Makoku occurred. The nonsense you’re spouting now aside, you’re his…friend. At least he sees you that way. It’s in the best interests of both of you that you view him in the same light.”

Wolfram gargled something out then groaned. “It’s too early in the morning for this kind of conversation.”

“Well, I’m not the one having sexual fantasies about his former fiancé.”

Wolfram glared at him. “They’re not-”

“Yeah, right.”

\- - - 

They went for a ride on Monday. It had been raining all day on Sunday, but today it was a beautiful, sunny spring day. Von Ashira was starting to feel bored in the castle and was glad about the outing. They were going to visit the dragon sanctuary in Wiederhaal. He had never seen a live dragon as their habitat was limited to Shin Makoku and they chose secluded areas to breed. Eldara had read about this species of an endangered animal and seen several pictures and had always wanted to see them with his own eyes. He was grateful for the opportunity.

There were about twenty people in the party and most of them felt the same way as the duke. They were looking forward to watching the dragons. 

The king was proud of the chance to show the guests such an incredibly rare sight. He hoped the event would leave even the duke in awe. Astride his black horse, Yuuri cast his eyes around the party: Wolfram, Conrart, Yozak, the duke with his men, and the guards - eighteen people. Yuuri’s eyes returned to Wolfram. The cute hat with ears had a new look on the blond’s more masculine and refined face. It looked strange now on Wolfram’s head, just like it had always looked out of place on all grown-ups. 

Wolfram was wearing the new sword at his side, the elegant and ornate scabbard and the hilt catching everyone’s eyes. The thought of the blond appreciating his gift made Yuuri feel superior. He still hadn’t confronted Wolfram about his and the duke’s relationship. He wasn’t certain how to go about it. It definitely angered him but mostly, it just left him feeling upset. During the time Wolfram had been away at Fort Lesa and then mysteriously disappeared, Yuuri had been at his wits’ end. He had realized that Wolfram was much more precious to him than he had ever thought. When Wolfram had finally appeared in front of him, he had been incredibly happy and vowed to never let him out of his sight again. And then the bedroom scene happened. He felt as if he had been kicked in the nuts. Did he have the right to feel so? He probably didn’t. Nonetheless, he was going to do everything in his power to prevent von Ashira from taking Wolfram away.

The road to Wiederhaal cut through a few villages, then Reinacht Forest. The journey there and back was going to take an entire day. 

The journey to the sanctuary was spent talking and familiarizing themselves with the villages and landmarks along their way. When they entered Reinacht Forest, they became aware of the presence of the dragons: the tops and branches of some trees were missing as they were used for making sturdy nests. The burnt out patches dotted around the foliage marked the forest as their territory. Even from afar, loud meows could be heard coming from the mountain. About an hour later, when the trees thinned out, they rode out into a valley of charred grass and bushes. One of the soldiers explained that they get charred during the fights for mates while the males demonstrate the strength and heat of their fire. Once the hierarchy is established and the fights end, the spring rains rejuvenate the vegetation. 

Everyone raised their eyes towards the huge and steep mountain with about thirty visible nests. A large dragon flew over them, very close to the ground, and they ducked instinctively. The horses whinnied frightfully. The dragon’s shadow disappeared behind them into the forest and they exhaled in relief. 

“Isn’t it dangerous to stay here?” Karela Ine asked, looking around.

“No, it should be alright. The fights finished a couple of weeks ago,” Conrart explained. “By this time they are usually tame. They keep coupling and making their nests or repairing their old ones. They get more aggressive again when they tend to their hatched young.”

“I didn’t know you were a dragon expert,” Wolfram teased.

“I did my research before coming here.”

Some dragons were soaring above the mountain, others further above the forest while foraging for food or materials for their nests. Others were in their nests, working on them or cleaning their scales. 

Eldara had to agree that in real life dragons differed from those he had seen in books. When on the ground or in their nests the dragons looked like awkward balloons but once in flight, they looked majestic. The size and span of their outstretched wings were incredible, and their tails added to the imposing picture. Eldara was amazed by the vibrancy of the colors: green, blue, gray and violet and in a wide array of shades. The biggest and oldest ones had horns and orange manes around their necks.

One of the dragons that was circling the mountain turned towards the party. It reached the men and hovered over their heads while its enormous wings kept beating to keep it airborne. The horses whinnied and wanted to retreat into the safety of the forest but the riders managed to rein them in. The dragon started descending quickly. 

“Don’t run, or it will start chasing us,” Yozak warned everyone.

“Then what do we do?” Eldara asked.

“We stay still, Your Grace. Unless it attacks.”

With a soft thud, the dragon landed right in front of the party, and the men had to wrestle the horses, that wanted nothing more than to flee from it. Were they not trained war horses, they would have thrown their riders off and bolted to the forest.

The dragon was only a couple of meters away from Yuuri, sniffing the air curiously.

“Your Majesty,” Conrart warned when the dragon moved even closer to the king.

Yuuri didn’t fall back, staying put and trying to control his scared horse. The dragon didn’t appear to be aggressive, but everyone froze in alarm when it opened its mouth. Wolfram called on his fire element.

“No, no, no!” Yuuri shouted when he felt elements being summoned. “It’s alright!” He laughed when the dragon licked his head affectionately and cooed in a low guttural voice. “It’s Pochi! I know this one!”

The dragon kept bathing the king’s head with its tongue and both disgusted and pleased Yuuri laughed again. His hat fell over his eyes and he kept trying to fix it while the dragon continued to lick him.

“It’s been years,” Yuuri said finally managing to wrestle his hat back so it didn’t cover his eyes anymore. He patted the dragon on the snout. “I’m amazed it still remembers me.”

The dragon was emitting a strange sound that was half purr and half whine. Unnerved, the men watched the scene. The dragon’s sharp teeth-filled mouth lurking so close to the king’s head didn’t look safe at all. Suddenly, the dragon hooted. Other dragons raised their heads and looked down the mountain at the riders. Their interest didn’t last long but one of the dragons left its nest and flew towards the party. The horses and people panicked again. The dragon landed next to the first one. It didn’t look aggressive either, instead, it sniffed at the party curiously. The dragons started hooting at each other.

“It seems that it’s her or his mate,” von Ashira said.

Yuuri nodded excitedly. “I think they want to befriend us.” He grinned when the second dragon nudged him with its snout. The nudge was careful but it still nearly made Yuuri fall off the horse. The dragons continued to hoot at each other.

“Umm…” Wolfram drawled while watching the dragons circle each other. “I am not certain but I think they are about to…”

The larger dragon mounted the smaller one.

“They’re mating,” Yozak said, laughing.

“That’s kind of obvious,” Yuuri said, somewhat displeased that such a splendid reunion had turned into a coupling session. “You didn’t need to point that out.”

“It would probably be a good idea to leave them alone,” von Ashira said, chuckling. “We have seen more than enough and we are intruding on them.”

“It doesn’t look like they care,” Wolfram said, but he was already turning his horse around, that was only too happy to oblige.

Chuckling, and a little embarrassed, the men followed von Bielefeld back into the forest. Now they headed for Blood Falls. The falls had gotten their name from their iron-oxide-tainted waters that flowed from deep underground. The iron-oxide gave the falls the look of an open wound gushing with blood, and it was one of the most popular attractions in Shin Makoku. 

It took over an hour to travel to Blood Falls from Wiederhaal. The air was getting warmer and most men took their hats off. It was past midday already and everyone was hungry. Soon they stopped and had lunch. 

When they finally reached the falls, the sight astounded von Ashira and his men. The falls and the lake were gruesome-looking but impressive. The red flow started high above the ground and then fell into the lake underneath. The lake was wide and, as Conrart explained, shallow as the particles of iron settled on its bottom. Further away from the falls the water wasn’t as red anymore and even further away was like anywhere else.

The locals believed that if one bathed in the lake, it enriched one’s blood and strengthened their health. A few days ago Wolfram had asked Gisela if that was true and she said that it was true as long as one believed it. She had also told him that a regular bathing had never hurt anyone. Some people did catch a cold, though, as the water in the falls was always freezing.

They admired the falls for some time and, as there were none who wished to bathe, turned back towards the capital city.

The air was even warmer in the evening. They stopped to have dinner in Reinacht Forest then continued through towards Shin Makoku. At about seven o’clock they were already back in the capital’s territory, climbing a steep hill when something whooshed towards and past them. A deer. It galloped off at high speed and then something big and orange jumped out from above the hill in hot pursuit.

Everyone turned at the sound of a loud pain-filled cry, just in time to see the deer and the sabertooth disappear amongst the trees. The trees were in the way and it was impossible to see what happened, but Eldara, like a few others had, recognized Wolfram’s voice. They turned their horses around and urged them back. 

Wolfram had fallen off his horse. He was sitting on the ground with his mare standing close to him, her head bent over him, sniffing at his shoulder. Yuuri froze at the sight of a stick protruding from the blond’s right thigh. He had fallen onto a low branch, causing it to snap and embed itself in his leg. Wolfram’s face was screwed up in pain as he stared at the foreign body in his flesh, not certain what to do.

An unfamiliar curse slipping from von Ashira’s mouth made Yuuri regain his senses. The duke jumped off his horse and knelt next to Wolfram. A dagger appeared in his hand and he cut into the end of the blond’s trouser-leg. Then he seized both ends of the fabric and tore it all the way up to the wound. He took a good look at Wolfram’s leg.

“It’s going to hurt,” he warned Wolfram before seizing the stick with both hands. Yozak materialized out of nowhere next to him and pressed Wolfram’s leg down, making him gasp and his eyes bulge in pain. “Get me a waterskin,” Eldara ordered.

Wolfram screamed in pain as the stick was pulled out with one strong tug. He collapsed onto his back, panting. Blood started gushing from the wound. Eldara tossed the bloodied stick aside, held out his hand and was presented with a waterskin. 

“Hold him,” he told Yozak. The blood spurting from the wound was the best disinfectant but, just to make sure, he poured the water over the wound.

Wolfram tensed again, his back rising off the grass. He tried to hold his voice back but ended up gargling something incomprehensible. Tears of pain streamed down his face. The duke’s men had cut up a coat for bandages and held them out for the duke. Eldara shook his head.

“Tend to him, Alisander. I’m not too good at bandaging.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

Alisander did a splendid job from what Yuuri could tell. During the ordeal, Yuuri had climbed off his horse but didn’t dare draw any closer to Wolfram. Once reassured that Wolfram’s life wasn’t in danger, Yuuri’s frightened stupor passed. His fear was replaced by something quite different. He found that there was something disagreeable about the scene he had been watching, not the wound, not the blood, not even Wolfram’s pain. What bothered him most was the duke’s familiarity with Wolfram’s body. The scene from a few days ago kept replaying itself in his mind and he just stood there restlessly, bound to his spot by his dissatisfaction and envy.

About seven minutes after he had fallen off the horse, Wolfram lay on a coat, bandaged and tended to. The men around him were conversing about further action. Wolfram had to be either carried back on a horse, which would be very painful, or someone had to go back to the castle and return with a carriage.

“Your Majesty?”

The duke had to call the king twice to get his attention.

“Ah, yes?” Yuuri mumbled, stumbling forward, closer to him and Wolfram. He couldn’t help staring at both Wolfram and the duke. Wolfram was leaning against a tree while von Ashira was kneeling in front of him. Eldara motioned for Yuuri to come even closer.

“Could Your Majesty cast a healing spell on him?” the duke asked.

“Yes, of course,” Yuuri said flustered, wondering why he hadn’t done so yet. Embarrassed, he kneeled next to Wolfram. He noted how Wolfram’s hands fisted into the sleeve of Eldara’s coat. 

“I’m alright, Your Majesty,” Wolfram mumbled out quickly. “You don’t need to…”

“Don’t be a fool!” Eldara admonished Wolfram strictly.

Silently, Yuuri held his hands above the blond’s injured thigh and closed his eyes. He summoned his water element and started the spell. Soon, though, he opened his eyes. He was used to the spell and it required no effort, the process being automatic.

As usual, the spell was clouding Wolfram’s mind. His breathing slowed down considerably. Sleepily, he rested his head against the duke’s shoulder.

They finally decided to send a man back to the castle for a carriage so as not to risk the wound reopening.

ooOoOoOoo

Gisela von Christ changed the bandages and started weaving a healing spell over the wound. Wolfram was slumbering again. She found no fault with the previous sporadic treatment. The wound was healing well and it didn’t seem that there was any infection. It would a week or so for the skin to fully heal and would leave no scarring or any other trace of injury. Von Bielefeld had lost quite a lot of blood though, and it was going to take him a few days to recover. Wolfram slept a lot but that was a common reaction to healing spells. Sleep helped the healing process.

The first healing spell cast over the blond’s wound still held. It was very powerful but lacked effectiveness since the caster, obviously, wasn’t well-versed in healing spells. It was easy to tell that it hadn’t been created by a professional healer – the caster had accidentally weaved in the emotions that had been present during the moment of its creation. Gisela could clearly feel the desperation and envy that had permeated the spell. She was left wondering what had been happening to make the caster feel that way.

ooOoOoOoo

The Blood Pledge Castle household and the guests were having breakfast. It was quiet at the table. Wolfram was still asleep in his room. It was going to be a while before he could walk again.

Gwendal finished eating and stood up. “Your Grace, I would like to see you in my study after You’re finished.”

Eldara gave him a curious look and nodded. Von Voltaire probably wanted to discuss yesterday’s outing and the accident. He, very likely, had things to complain about.

The duke stayed at the table for another ten minutes, enjoying his tea and conversation with Cecilie. Then he excused himself and went to von Voltaire’s study. Karela had followed him but once they stood in front of the study door, Eldara sent the captain away. He knocked and entered. Von Voltaire stood up respectfully.

“Take a seat, Your Grace,” Gwendal said as soon as von Ashira closed the door. He motioned at the chair in front of his desk.

Eldara walked to the chair and sat down. He folded his hands in his lap and got ready for the scolding. “In my defense,” he said, “I was about ten meters away from him when the accident happened.”

Von Voltaire’s brow rose a little. “No, this is not why I wanted to talk to you. I was assured that you did your best in treating Wolfram.” He inclined his head. “Thank you.” He straightened. “I would actually like to discuss marble import to Shin Makoku.”

“Oh?”

Gwendal nodded. “Shin Makoku is rich in minerals but we lack marble. There is a large marble quarry in Raizgad’s territory.”

Thinking, Eldara played with his signet ring. It was all good and well but as far as he knew, the quarry already worked at full capacity to satisfy the market demand. “I will see what I can do,” he said diplomatically.

“I know that marble is in high demand,” Gwendal said. “Our merchants are ready to pay a handsome sum for the supply.”

The duke gave him a look. “What kind of sum are we talking about? And I hope it’s not about buying a few decorative slabs for one temple.”

“No, of course, not. We are talking a long-term business. And…ten gold for a shipment of forty slabs.”

That was, most likely, a good price, Eldara decided. He had a limited knowledge of marble prices, but he knew that von Voltaire would not demean himself by trying to trick him to seal the deal. That was just not how von Voltaire operated.

“The price depends on the kind of stone and color we are talking about,” Eldara noted, with an absent motion of his right hand, pointing somewhere at the ceiling. He gave von Voltaire a curious look. “You don’t normally do this kind of business, do you?” he wondered.

Gwendal’s broad shoulders rose and fell in a slow shrug. “No, not normally,” he admitted. “But it’s a good opportunity since you’re here.”

Eldara smiled knowingly. Von Voltaire knew that he would have rejected the proposal if he had been approached by a trade advisor or von Christ. 

“I will have to contact my trade advisor,” Eldara said finally. “He will return to you with the finalized offer.”

Von Voltaire nodded.

“I will also have to inform my king,” Eldara said. “Just like you, yours,” he added with an unconcealed smile.

Gwendal gave him a discontent look. “His Majesty Shibuya will make a great king.”

Eldara inclined his head. “Oh, without a doubt. Under your guidance even a headless chicken would make a wonderful king.”

Von Voltaire’s head snapped up to glare at him. “How dare you?!”

Unsuccessfully trying to suppress a burst of sudden laughter, von Ashira waved his hands in front of him defensively. “I didn’t mean His Majesty Shibuya is one. I was only complimenting you.”

Gwendal snorted to show that he highly doubted that.

Eldara chuckled. “I mean it – I do respect you a lot.”

Von Voltaire rolled his eyes. “You have a strange way of showing that.”

The duke laughed softly. “Are you talking about the letters? Teasing is my way of showing affection.”

Lowering his eyes, von Voltaire cleared his throat. Von Ashira did seem to be honest, and Gwendal found himself not knowing how to act. He cleared his throat again. “Mmm… Thank you, I suppose.”

Von Ashira watched the older man tugging at his ponytail unconsciously.

“So, has Wolfram given you his answer yet?”

Eldara couldn’t help chuckling. “No, he hasn’t. I promise you will be the first to hear when he does. Be it negative or positive.”

“Hmm…” Gwendal hummed.

“You don’t seem to consider me such a bad option anymore,” Eldara noted, amused.

Von Voltaire rolled his eyes. “Why do you make it sound as if I am an animal to be tamed?”

“Because that’s exactly how it is. I would not want to be on poor terms with my brother-in-law.”

Von Voltaire grunted in distaste. “I don’t think he will agree.”

“Neither do I,” Eldara admitted. “But let’s not rush things.”

Gwendal stared at him for a few moments then sighed. “Care for a ride in the park?” he suggested knowing that he would not be able to concentrate on his paperwork anymore.

“It would be my pleasure.”

\- - -

Bored, Wolfram stared at the wall opposite him. He was sitting in his bed, with two large pillows supporting his back. He was wearing only a light, white shirt and underwear. His lower half was covered by a colorful bedcover.

The thing that was upsetting him most was that he was going to spend the next three or more weeks exactly like this – immobile. He’d needed help getting to the toilet and, even then, the trip had been followed by excruciating pain. Wolfram’s gaze went to his bedside cabinet – on the counter there was a pile of books that Gunter had brought him. There were also two love stories amongst them. Wolfram had chosen the one about a priestess worshipping the Goddess of Love falling in love with a priest of the God of War. It had sounded promising but once he had started reading it, it appeared to be a pornographic novel where the two copulated like mad in each of the temples and on every surface available. It lacked the illustrations but the descriptions were energetic and very explicit. Wolfram had read almost half of it until he had reached the part where they had been discovered by the Goddess of Love and then had an orgy. Two women in one place were too much for Wolfram and he had closed the book. The light throbbing in his groin had soon subsided and he could only feel the one in his thigh. 

Wolfram reached out for the bell next to the pile of books. He doubted that anyone would hear it though. Maybe it was alright, since he didn’t know what he wanted anyway.

There was a knock on the door and after Wolfram permitted the entrance, it swung open to reveal Gwendal and Eldara. Wolfram was surprised to see them together. Without ringing the bell, he lowered it back to the bedside cabinet.

“Have you had breakfast yet?” Gwendal asked, closing the door while Eldara was already walking towards the blond’s bed.

Wolfram nodded. “Yes, I had to in order to take my medicine.”

“I talked to Gisela,” Gwendal said. “She says there shouldn’t be any complications.”

“Yes, should take a month for it to heal completely.” Wolfram frowned. “How degrading – falling off a horse…” he said with a sigh, closing his eyes in embarrassment.

Shrugging, Gwendal stood on the opposite side of the bed from Ashira. “I’m certain that everyone understands that it’s not easy to control a horse with a sabertooth about to lunge at it.”

“It wasn’t going at the horse. It was going after the deer or whatever it was,” Wolfram said unhappily. “I keep getting injured lately,” he complained further. “Such bad luck.”

“Nonsense,” Eldara said, getting comfortable in the chair beside the blond’s bed. “You’re incredibly lucky that the branch didn’t stab you in the eye and turn your brain into mash.”

Gwendal, who was about to say the same but in a less gruesome manner, nodded in agreement. “Besides, Kerda is alright.”

“I have to admit,” Eldara said, “that I’m glad that it wasn’t Rendar you were riding.” He glanced at von Voltaire meaningfully. “I would have probably been accused of attempt on your life.”

“Drop it,” Gwendal told him strictly.

Eldara chuckled while Wolfram’s eyebrows rose. At some point, apparently the two of them had agreed on familiarly addressing each other. It was surprisingly positive progress.

TBC


	46. Part 46

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Kyou Kara Maou! – It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I’m not making any money from writing it.  
> Warnings: yaoi (male x male), violence, swearing, angst, drama. Wolfram-centric, out of character, original character.  
> Summary: With Yuuri’s upcoming birthday, Wolfram makes his decision. Where will it lead him and what is to become of them? Should eventually be Yuuri x Wolfram.  
> A/N 1: Yuuri – 18 years old. Wolfram – 21. Eldara – 32. Halea – 20. Athara – 18. Gwendal – 54.  
> A/N 2: Greta doesn’t exist.  
> A/N 3: European/American/Japanese standards all at once depending on the plot requirements.  
> A/N 4: A tendency to ignore the anime/manga and supplement the story with my own imagined facts.   
> A/N 5: Season III is not taken into consideration, except for the fact that Wolfram’s uncle exists.  
> A/N 6: The umlaut in Gunter’s name is a bother.

**Bloom**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Anonymously Awesome

Part 46

Yuuri knocked on the door and was let in by Wolfram’s drowsy voice. At the sight of the king, Wolfram tried to sit up.

“Your Majesty,” he greeted.

Yuuri raised his hands in an attempt to stop Wolfram from getting up. “It’s okay, don’t move.” Eldara wasn’t present for once and Yuuri felt grateful for the opportunity to be alone with Wolfram. “How are you?” he asked, approaching the blond’s bed.

“I’m fine, thank you, Your Majesty,” Wolfram said. He looked embarrassed. “I’m sorry for worrying everyone so much.”

Yuuri sat down on the chair beside Wolfram’s bed. “Please, can you stop calling me that, Wolfram?” He shook his head. “It’s…unpleasant. And don’t apologize. I am glad that nothing worse happened to you.”

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty.” Guilt washed over Wolfram when he saw anger and frustration appear on Yuuri’s face. “I’m sorry,” Wolfram apologized again, this time sincerely. “And I’m sorry you had to see that too.”

Yuuri’s cheeks reddened, but the anger left his face. He smiled awkwardly. “That pink nightie… I didn’t think you still had it.”

Wolfram’s face flushed red in embarrassment as well. “Uh, that… Eldara found it. We laughed about it and then sort of…” he trailed off, letting out an awkward chuckle.

Yuuri joined him with his own laughter. It sounded unnatural to his own ears. He didn’t even know why he was laughing when he felt like grabbing Wolfram and giving him a good shake. That pink nightie… The duke had fulfilled Wolfram’s sexual fantasy. Whether Wolfram had asked him to or von Ashira had figured it out on his own, it didn’t matter, and Yuuri didn’t care. The fact was that he felt as if something had been stolen from him; from both him and Wolfram. Yuuri felt a surge of jealousy, a very similar kind to what he had experienced yesterday.

Uncertain, Wolfram stared at Yuuri’s face – the king seemed angry. At some point, his awkward laughter had died and Yuuri just kept looking at his face.

“What do you think of von Ashira?” Yuuri asked suddenly.

“Uh.” Wolfram shifted uncomfortably at the unexpected question. The movement made him wince at the pain in his thigh. “Errmm… What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. What are you going to do about him? Do you like him? What are your plans?”

Wolfram’s hands smoothed out the creases in the covers of his lap. “Um. Did something happen?” he asked uncertainly, thrown off by Yuuri’s firm voice. “For you to ask this… Some political changes maybe?”

Yuuri shook his head. “No, not at all. I’m just interested personally. As your…” he trailed off, searching for the right word. ‘Friend’ was probably the safest to use, but, at that moment, Yuuri felt contempt for the word. 

“As my ex-fiancé?” Wolfram supplied helpfully, his eyebrows raised. 

“Mnmn,” Yuuri mumbled under his breath, aware of the sardonic expression. “I’d actually prefer ‘friend’ over that.”

Wolfram’s fingers tapped his signet ring unconsciously. Why did he have to talk about Eldara to Yuuri? “Well…von Ashira proposed to me. I’m still thinking about it.” This felt incredibly uncomfortable. 

“I know that much,” Yuuri said impatiently. “What do you think of him? Do you like him enough to marry?”

Wolfram felt anger starting to rise at the king’s demanding tone. What was with this offensive interrogation? “I do like him a lot, obviously. I wouldn’t be thinking about marrying him if I didn’t.”

“Do you love him?”

Wolfram glared at Yuuri. His mouth opened to spit out an answer, but there was nothing to say, and it closed again. “What do you care?” he huffed finally. “I’m thinking about marrying him, but I’m a little uncertain of Gwendal’s reaction.”

“What’s Gwendal got to do with this?” Yuuri said disapprovingly. “By the way, he isn’t against it at all,” he added bitterly. “The real question is whether you love that guy or not.”

“He isn’t?” Wolfram asked, surprised. “How do you know that?”

“He told me so,” Yuuri said. “Apparently,” he continued, irritated, “at some point, von Ashira has managed to convince Gwendal that he’s the most desirable spouse.”

Wolfram couldn’t help chuckling. “Oh? Last time we talked, Gwendal tried to persuade me not to marry.” That did explain, however, why currently the two of them seemed to be on much friendlier terms.

“That’s old news apparently.”

Wolfram was silent, and Yuuri was beside himself with annoyance. The king wanted to grab Wolfram and shake the living hell out of him. No matter how hard he had tried, he hadn’t managed to get the answer from the blond that he had wanted. Even the one he hadn’t wanted. Wolfram was being incredibly vague and evasive.

“I don’t like him,” Yuuri said stubbornly. He felt foolish saying that but he couldn’t stop himself. He wanted to pour out his entire annoyance and distress to Wolfram, to make him feel what he felt about the situation.

Wolfram only rolled his eyes in answer. He had heard this so many times that it didn’t faze him even a little bit. “Yes, I already understand that.”

“He’s a conniving two-faced bastard,” Yuuri grunted out.

Wolfram shrugged. “I fully agree with that, but don’t you think it’s unfair to talk about him behind his back?”

Yuuri’s face reddened in embarrassment, but he kept talking, “Why in the world would you want to marry him, then?”

“I like him.” 

“I won’t let you marry him,” Yuuri persisted.

“Oh?” Wolfram said, unimpressed. “Is that a new decree?”

Humiliated, Yuuri blushed even more but didn’t avert his eyes. “Not really, but… I won’t allow it.”

For a few moments, Wolfram simply stared at him then his eyes went supernova. His face contorted in fury, the blond hissed, “What are you talking about? Forbid me to marry? After everything you made me go through?! You selfish bastard! How dare you?!”

Somehow, Yuuri felt relieved. This reaction was the closest to the real Wolfram he had felt for the past year. Despite the accusations, it was a more than welcome feeling.

“What the fuck are you smiling about?!” Wolfram yelled at him, moments short of punching his king in the face.

“Do you still love me?” Yuuri asked softly.

Wolfram’s eyes went wide in surprise. Even though the king’s voice was soft, Wolfram had heard it clearly. He stared at Yuuri, frowning. The blond snorted angrily. “Who cares about that?”

“I do,” Yuuri said. “I can’t take action before I know your answer.”

“What action are you talking about?” Wolfram asked. He suddenly felt uncomfortable under the king’s intense gaze.

“I am not sure yet, but I think I might like you. In that way.”

Wolfram stared at Yuuri. The younger man met his eyes steadily then, obviously, suddenly felt uncomfortable and averted them to the carpet under the bed. Wolfram’s eyebrows rose. “Really?” he asked a few moments later, skeptical. Then a thought occurred to him. “Did someone accidentally pour my mother’s perfume on you?”

Annoyed, Yuuri shook his head. “Of course not! It’s not the perfume. I like you,” he repeated, his eyes concentrating back on the blond’s face. “I don’t know for certain but…”

“I get it now. So you want me to reject Eldara because you think you might like me?”

“Yes,” Yuuri confirmed, relieved that Wolfram had grasped the situation so quickly.

Wolfram smiled at him. “Screw you, bastard.”

Distressed, Yuuri shook his head. “Wolfram, you don’t love him anyway. All I am asking is for you to wait a little while.”

“Until you’re certain that you really like me? Or until you’re certain that you don’t? Just like all the years that have already gone past?”

“I do like you!” Yuuri protested. “I’ve always liked you! You have always been my friend! But now I’m talking about…” Yuuri waved his hands about in frustration. “I think I do love you. When you left… I’ve been having all these thoughts recently… You don’t love him anyway. I’m asking you to give me one more chance. We can try to work things out. Just like you have always wanted.”

“I don’t want that anymore. And how do you know I don’t love him?”

“Well, do you?”

“Oh, piss off! Get out of my room!”

Wolfram was serious, Yuuri realized. He wanted to add so much more but everything he wanted to say was probably going to anger Wolfram even more. Even to his own ears he sounded like a selfish bastard, but desperate times called for desperate measures. He didn’t want to miss his chance just because he was indecisive.

Yuuri stood up. It was best to let Wolfram cool off. “I know this sounds absurd after everything I’ve put you through during the last five years, but this is really how I feel. Think it over, alright?”

“Leave.”

\- - -

Wolfram and Eldara were having dinner in Wolfram’s room. The blond had invited the duke to dine with him, and he had gladly accepted the invitation. They were having roasted chicken wings with roasted potatoes and cabbage salad. A tray in a shape of a small bench was straddling Wolfram’s thighs. He was holding a chicken wing with his fingers while nibbling at it with his teeth. The duke was sitting further away at the table.

“You seem somewhat distraught,” Eldara said. The blond didn’t appear to have much of an appetite either.

Wolfram dropped the gnawed off bones down into his plate and reached out for the towel on the side of the tray to wipe his hands.

“Let’s get married.”

Eldara choked on the chicken he was chewing. After coughing for about a minute, he dealt with the chicken and gave Wolfram a teary, red-eyed look filled with incredulity. “Really? Why so suddenly?”

Wolfram, who had been watching his struggle with faint amusement, shrugged. “No reason. I think I’ve had enough time to think it over.”

The duke reached out for a glass with water and took a few gulps. He lowered it and turned to Wolfram again. “Are you sure?”

“Rather than asking me that, shouldn’t you act happy, or at least pleased?”

“Well, I’m pleased indeed. I, however, am more surprised than happy. It’s quite unexpected.”

“So now you’re withdrawing your proposal?”

Eldara shook his head. “No, I didn’t say that.” He gave Wolfram a searching look. “When are you going to tell your family?”

“I think today would be a great idea.” Wolfram took the bell from the bedside cabinet and rang it. One of the maids entered, and he asked her to call everyone to his room for an announcement.

Once the dinner was finished in the dining room, Wolfram’s family filed into his bedroom. Driven by curiosity and a large amount of dark foreboding, Yuuri had followed them. He didn’t feel so out of place as Gunter was also there.

The maid had just recently taken the plates and the bench away. The duke was standing next to the blond’s bed, composed and looking almost regal.

“We have an announcement to make,” Wolfram started with a glance at Eldara. “As of now, Eldara von Ashira of Raizgad and I, Wolfram von Bielefeld of Shin Makoku, are engaged.”

The sudden silence was broken by Cecilie clapping and congratulating them. Gwendal sent a withering glare towards von Ashira. The duke gave him a light shrug in answer. Gunter cleared his throat. He opened his mouth to ask whether it was really wise then thought better of it and asked them when they intended to have an official engagement party.

“The sooner, the better,” Wolfram replied. “Currently, I’m confined to my bed but I should be up and about in three weeks. Let’s opt for then. That should provide enough time for the invitations to reach everyone concerned and for them to arrive at Shin Makoku.”

Gwendal turned to the duke, who was unusually quiet. “Will it really be enough time, though? Your Grace would probably appreciate Your family’s presence for such a jolly occasion?” 

Eldara gave him a restrained smile. “It is not necessary, Your Highness. An engagement party is basically just a rehearsal for a wedding. It is much more important for Halea and Athara to be present during the wedding ceremony.”

“If we are talking about that,” Gunter interjected, “where will the wedding take place, in Shin Makoku or Kardera?”

“Oh, we haven’t thought ab-”

“In Kardera,” Wolfram said with a glance at Eldara.

“You don’t seem to have discussed this at all,” Gwendal noted them drily.

“These are just minor details,” Wolfram told him, his voice dismissive. “Let’s concentrate on the engagement first.”

Yuuri, who had been quiet through the entire ordeal, drew everyone’s attention to himself by walking towards Wolfram’s bed and sitting down on the side of it.

“Could I have a word with Wolfram alone?” he asked, looking around at the faces in the room.

A little surprised, everyone met each other’s eyes but complied with the request.

“So this is your revenge?” Yuuri asked once there were only the two of them left in the room. “For all those years that…”

“No, of course, not,” Wolfram denied. “You just made me realize that there’s no point in stalling.”

Yuuri laughed bitterly. “How so? I was trying to do the exact opposite.”

Wolfram glared at him in contempt. “If you believe that once you come to me with your vague affection declarations, I will gratefully fall head over heels for you again, you are an idiot!”

Yuuri punched Wolfram in the shoulder playfully, which made the emerald eyes darken with anger even more. “I know that you’re doing this just to spite me. I should have seen it coming.”

“See this coming,” Wolfram said, punching Yuuri in the side. Since the blond was sitting in the bed, the punch lacked strength, but it was still enough to make the king slip off the mattress.

“You could have broken my arm again,” Yuuri accused, picking himself up from the floor and rubbing his sore ribs.

“It’s a pity I didn’t!” Wolfram hissed at him.

Yuuri brushed his clothes off and sat down on the side of the bed again. “Call off the engagement before it gets legally finalized,” he asked. “Why would you even want to marry that man? He didn’t even look happy about the engagement. Neither did you.”

Yuuri was right, Wolfram knew that. Instead of appearing triumphant that his proposal had been accepted Eldara looked mildly startled. Wolfram himself wasn’t happy at all, he was mostly irritated and filled with malevolence. He just wanted to end it all, to finally put a stop to his absurd love story. He had hoped it had ended, that he had put it all past him. And now Yuuri was starting it all over again. It was like a never-ending nightmare.

Silently, Wolfram watched Yuuri’s hands in his lap. Despite Yuuri’s attempt to appear resolute, he was nervously tugging at his shaky fingers. Maybe the king really did feel something for him, but that didn’t matter. That was all in the past.

“Yuuri, forget it,” Wolfram said. “It’s too late.”

“It isn’t,” Yuuri insisted. “Let’s try and see what happens.”

Wolfram shook his head. “I don’t want to take part in your vague experiments. Just let me go. It was never meant to be.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yuuri,” Wolfram sneered at him angrily, “you can’t even get it up with a man, can you? What in the world could you possibly want with me?”

The question was perfectly sensible, but the blond’s derisive and cynical tone set something off in Yuuri. Moving forward, he grabbed Wolfram’s wrists and pressed him to the headboard. Wolfram winced at the pain in his leg while Yuuri’s weight pressed him down into the bed.

“Why don’t I find out?” Yuuri said, ignoring Wolfram’s pained expression. He pressed his mouth to the blond’s.

Wolfram didn’t resist. He had forgotten he could. He was so stunned by the impudent act that he could only stare, Yuuri’s face blurry from such a close range. Yuuri was bad at kissing. He hardly had any idea how it was done and was just moving his lips, nibbling on the blond’s. It didn’t help matters, of course, that Wolfram had turned to stone, neither encouraging him nor pushing him away, just waiting for Yuuri to finish his ridiculous act. 

Yuuri moved his head away finally. They stared at each other. Yuuri appeared to be even more shocked than Wolfram by his own actions. He was resolute, though. Since Wolfram didn’t resist, he leaned in again, hopeful, but the blond freed his right wrist and shoved at his chest. Yuuri stumbled sideways and flopped onto the side of the bed then rolled to the floor. He yelped in pain as he hit it.

“And did you find out?” the blond hissed, furious while Yuuri was getting up.

Yuuri blinked at him dazedly. “I…”

“Get lost,” Wolfram said while Yuuri was just staring at him. Wolfram’s leg was throbbing painfully, but he hardly felt it. 

“Wolfram…”

“Get out, you damn lunatic!”

Wolfram was shifting about in the bed, and it was clear that if Yuuri didn’t leave the room, Wolfram would. No matter how much Yuuri wanted to make use of his hardly mobile state, it was too much to hear his pain-filled grunts.

Yuuri walked to the door and opened it. He turned to look at Wolfram, who had stilled in his bed. “Promise me that you will think about this, alright?”

“I’m not going to think about anything!” Wolfram spat defiantly.

“That’s what I’m afraid of…” Yuuri sighed. Angrily, Wolfram grunted something out in response, but Yuuri closed the door.

ooOoOoOoo

A week passed, and Wolfram felt good enough to be carried outside to the garden. His chair stood facing the training ground. He was flanked by bushes, the recently-sprouted leaves of which made a passable protection from drafts. Next to him, there was a bench and a small table with a bowl of fruit, a carafe of water and a few glasses.

Wolfram watched men sparring and exercising their horses. Despite his yearning to be there in the yard with them, the sight soothed him. The castle was busying itself with preparation for his engagement party but he felt detached from it all. It felt as if he were watching them prepare for someone else’s celebration. He should have helped them with its organization, but his immobility was the ideal excuse to stay uninvolved.

Wolfram felt guilty for feeling the way he did but lacked will to actually do anything about it. Basically, he just wanted it to be over and done with without taking part himself. That was probably not the way to feel about one’s engagement, Wolfram realized.

Yuuri had tried to talk him out of it a few more times. It came to the point where, at the very sight of him, Wolfram would try and escape him. He hadn’t told Eldara about the king’s confession. He didn’t want to get Eldara involved and, to be completely honest, didn’t particularly care what the duke thought of this. It was Yuuri’s problem and no one else’s.

Something rustled in the distance in the garden, and Wolfram turned to see what it was. Above the bushes a mop of dark hair could be seen approaching. Wolfram groaned under his breath and wished that his chair had wheels.

In a few moments the King of Shin Makoku emerged from the bushes and onto the path leading to Wolfram’s haven. 

“Oh, for gods’ sakes,” Wolfram muttered under his breath at upon seeing the look of resolution on Yuuri’s face. The king had him cornered.

Wordlessly, Yuuri sat down on the bench next to the blond’s chair. He took a deep breath and then sighed.

“You are making a mistake,” he said for the fifth time this week. He didn’t know where he had gotten this much courage and persistence from. During the past months he had surprised himself a great deal, the surprises just kept coming one after another. Despite his muddled and overwhelming feelings concerning the entire situation, Yuuri was certain about what he wanted. He desperately wanted to take action to make Wolfram his. He had probably never been more resolute about anything else in his entire life. There was a lot he wanted to convey to the blond. Wolfram, however, wasn’t keen on listening to him. His ridiculous stubbornness was driving Yuuri mad.

After Yuuri’s words, demonstratively, Wolfram turned his face to the sky and stared at the clouds. 

“Will you stop that? Why are you so stubborn?” 

“I could ask you the same. It’s finished, it’s over, please just leave me alone.”

“Nothing is over. I won’t allow you to marry.”

“Oh, really?” Wolfram chuckled in an unamused manner. He leaned closer to Yuuri. “Are you going to throw me in the dungeon? Or maybe you’ll get rid of him instead? Or, maybe, lock both of us up? You had better come up with a good reason because I doubt Orinth the Sixth would like the idea.”

From the corner of his eye, Yuuri noticed the bane of his existence, von Ashira, appear on the path. The man saw them and, albeit reluctantly, started heading their way. Yuuri groaned mentally; with that man here, he had no chance to change Wolfram’s mind.

“Let’s just talk it over,” Yuuri tried again desperately. “Let’s go to your room and talk.”

“Talk?” Wolfram asked. “You’re threatening to throw me into a dungeon! There’s nothing to talk about.”

“I’ve never said anything about any dungeons!” Yuuri shouted in exasperation. “It’s you who mentioned it!”

“Stop shouting at me!” Wolfram yelled at him, reaching out as if trying to bodily push Yuuri away and out of his sight, but failing since the king was way out of his reach.

“Wolfram,” Eldara said softly, warning. He gave a nod of recognition to Yuuri. “Your Majesty.”

“He’s threatening to throw us into the dungeon!”

Yuuri groaned when the duke’s sapphire eyes set on him in an unfriendly manner. 

“Why is that? Your Majesty?” von Ashira asked questioningly.

“I’m not!” Yuuri denied. “I didn’t even say anything about it!” He turned to Wolfram. “Stop making things up, for gods’ sakes!” 

There was something in the king’s voice that made Eldara look at him more intently. The young male was nearly hysterical. Wolfram, on the other hand, was already way beyond that. His emotional state reminded the duke of that time, back in Raizgad when he had just brought Wolfram to his castle, of the crazy incident with the servant in the baths.

“May I ask what you are arguing about?” Eldara asked even though he knew perfectly well what the drama was about. The other two, however, were in desperate need of a mediator.

“We aren’t arguing,” Wolfram said. “His Majesty was already about to leave.”

“I was not,” the king denied.

“Alright, then I will leave,” Wolfram said, holding his arms out for Eldara. “Help me get to my room, will you?”

Eldara gave him a rather apathetic look. Instead of walking over to Wolfram, he asked for permission and sat down on the bench next to Yuuri. Exasperated, Wolfram lowered his arms.

“You should listen when people are trying to tell you something important,” Eldara told him.

Wolfram glared at him. “I don’t care about what he has to say and I don’t want to hear any of that nonsense!”

“Wolfram,” the duke said, “shut up and listen to him.”

The tone left no room for protesting. Wolfram’s eyes were scintillating hatred but he stayed quiet. Amazed both at the effect of the duke’s influence and the unexpected source of help, Yuuri felt that he was starting to tear up. He had spent these past few weeks in such turmoil that his emotions were unstable. He suddenly felt so grateful to the duke that he nearly grabbed his hand for a handshake. Then again, he knew that the duke wouldn’t be happy to hear what it was really about.

“Do you still have feelings for me?” Yuuri tried again, avoiding the duke’s eyes. “It’s not too late. I…”

“I don’t have any feelings for you! How many times do I have to tell you?” Wolfram yelled at him. “It’s over between us! Leave me the hell alone!” 

“Of course you have feelings for him.” 

Both Wolfram and Yuuri turned to stare at the duke. 

“I don’t!” Wolfram protested as soon as the surprise had passed. “Why are you suddenly on his side?” he demanded.

“I’m on your side,” Eldara assured Wolfram. “Marrying me is not really what you want, is it? I’m certain you realize that.”

“I don’t!” Wolfram grunted indignantly.

“You do,” Eldara said firmly. “And…frankly, I have no interest in marrying someone who is already in love with another man.” 

“Yes,” Wolfram agreed, glaring at him, “especially when there’s someone else that you’re much more interested in.”

Eldara looked mildly startled. “You knew?”

“Presumed.”

Yuuri wasn’t certain what they were talking about but this seemed like the merciless end of their engagement. He could hardly contain his excitement.

The duke chuckled suddenly. “So you’re taking revenge on both of us, aren’t you?”

Wolfram sniggered in disgust. “Oh, don’t you make yourself sound a victim. You were the one using me.”

Eldara closed his mouth. Then he sighed. “And you still wanted to marry me? Are you out of your mind?”

Wolfram shrugged. “We make a good match – a pair of two-faced bastards.”

The duke laughed softly. “Indeed.”

Yuuri’s optimistic excitement started to wane. He didn’t want the two-faced bastards to make up. 

TBC


	47. Part 47

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Kyou Kara Maou! – It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I’m not making any money from writing it.  
> Warnings: yaoi (male x male), violence, swearing, angst, drama. Wolfram-centric, out of character, original character.  
> Summary: With Yuuri’s upcoming birthday, Wolfram makes his decision. Where will it lead him and what is to become of them? Should eventually be Yuuri x Wolfram.  
> A/N 1: Yuuri – 18 years old. Wolfram – 21. Eldara – 32. Halea – 20. Athara – 18. Gwendal – 54.  
> A/N 2: Greta doesn’t exist.  
> A/N 3: European/American/Japanese standards all at once depending on the plot requirements.  
> A/N 4: A tendency to ignore the anime/manga and supplement the story with my own imagined facts.   
> A/N 5: Season III is not taken into consideration, except for the fact that Wolfram’s uncle exists.  
> A/N 6: The umlaut in Gunter’s name is a bother.

**Bloom**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Anonymously Awesome

Part 47

Yozak and Karela watched the scene from behind the bushes. From their distance, they weren’t able to hear a word but there was something significant about the sight before them. The three men were now sitting quietly in the makeshift alcove. The king was absently playing with his fingers on his lap, Wolfram was watching the soldiers gentling their horses in the yard, and the duke was eating raisins from a nearby table. 

“One silver for their engagement being called off,” Yozak muttered.

“Two silver for their engagement being called off,” Karela whispered.

Yozak frowned. “That’s not much of a bet. Shouldn’t you be more supportive of your master?”

“I’m supportive but not stupid.”

Yozak chuckled. Silently, they continued watching.

“Why don’t you take your time to make your decision?” Eldara suggested to Wolfram.

Yuuri fully agreed with the duke but didn’t dare voice his opinion so as not to spoil this triumphant moment – currently, Wolfram was so dead-set against anything he said that he would probably do the opposite just to spite him.

“There’s no time to take,” Wolfram pointed out somewhat sarcastically. “In a week, people will start gathering to celebrate our engagement.”

“Well, we will just have to apologize then. It’s probably not too late to send out cancelation letters.”

“Or you could just pretend to drop dead during the party,” Wolfram suggested. “We would bury you, then dig out at night and secretly sail back to Raizgad.”

Eldara laughed. “That would probably work.”

Wolfram looked away from him to blankly stare at the people and beasts in the yard. The feeling was strange, something between weightless incredulity and horrifying certainty. It was surreal.

Wolfram sighed and shook himself quickly. “Don’t worry,” he grunted, “I won’t force you to marry against your will. We will call it off, of course.”

“It’s not exactly against my will,” Eldara said, and Wolfram rolled his eyes wondering how long the duke would keep this up. “It’s just that it’s not a very good idea. All you’re doing now is just blindly trying to escape His Majesty Shibuya.”

“Wasn’t I your back-up plan as well?”

“It was obviously a bad idea,” Eldara said.

Wolfram chuckled. “You’re getting soft, admitting your mistakes…”

“You’ve got me cornered.”

It seemed that the discussion was over. Yuuri, who hadn’t said a word during the exchange, was afraid to even move so as not to set off a new wave of conversation. He was very content about the outcome.

\- - - 

“We are calling off the engagement,” Wolfram announced at dinner.

It was silent at first. Gwendal shot a look to von Ashira. Von Voltaire wasn’t surprised by this turn of events. He was also aware of the king’s suppressed smile. He looked as content as a goat. The only one who seemed somewhat upset was Cecilie, but that wasn’t going to last as Gwendal knew from experience. 

“I see,” Gwendal muttered. “Is that a new sport? Calling off the engagements? What shall we call it? Make sure you won’t change your mind in two days.”

Blushing, Wolfram glared at him. “Shouldn’t you be exceedingly happy instead of angry? Weren’t you against it from the start?”

“I’m angry because it happened at all.”

Wolfram suddenly snapped. “Yeah, sorry I snatched him first! Why don’t you just-?!”

“Wolfram,” Eldara said, “you-”

“Don’t interrupt me!” Wolfram hissed at the duke.

“Errm, of course,” Eldara said. “It’s just that your sleeve is in your soup...”

Wolfram glanced down quickly and lifted his arm. “Shit.” He quieted down and grabbed a few napkins to dry his sleeve. A few moments later he realized that he had said too much. He gave Gwendal an apologetic look then Eldara. His brother ignored him while the duke gave him an amiable smile. It seemed that Eldara was the only one who understood what he was going through.

“The invitations have been sent,” Gunter complained. “Hundreds of chickens, pigs and goats have been ordered for this occasion. All for naught! Such a waste, such a shame!”

“Well, why don’t we marry Gwendal and Eldara off?” Cecilie suggested, smiling. She looked at her eldest son. “That way nothing would go to waste.”

Yuuri burst out laughing. No one else was laughing, and his laughter died at the looks on everyone’s faces. He stared at von Voltaire, whose facial expression was most peculiar.

Gwendal glared at his mother. “Let’s eat,” he said.

\- - - 

“Your dearest mother is full of the strangest ideas,” Eldara said, taking his usual seat in the chair in front of von Voltaire’s desk. In truth, Cecilie’s perceptiveness was making him uncomfortable.

“That’s Lady Cecilie von Spitzweg for you,” Gwendal corrected him.

“Yes, yes, Lady von Spitzweg,” Eldara agreed compliantly. “Even though she and I are on a first-name basis,” he added.

“Don’t you even think of sinking your claws into her!”

“How did you even get that idea?”

Getting comfortable in his seat, Gwendal shot him a look. “I wouldn’t put it past you.” He pushed a few documents and envelopes aside to clear the desk in front of him. 

Eldara sighed. He didn’t bother to reply. There was mostly discomfort in von Voltaire’s voice. The man wasn’t looking at him either, concentrated on the surface of his desk, his fingers tapping on it lightly.

The older man shifted in his seat and stood up again. He went to the cabinet. 

“Want a drink?”

Eldara shrugged. “Sure.”

In several moments, two glasses and a bottle of white wine appeared on the desk. Von Voltaire filled the glasses and they drank quietly.

Gwendal lowered his glass back to the desk. He watched the beads of wine on the walls drip steadily downwards to join the remains of the pale, yellow liquid at the very bottom the glass.

“You have a crush on me, don’t you?” he said.

Eldara choked on his wine, and Gwendal looked up. Von Ashira pushed his glass aside and grabbed a napkin then proceeded to cough for a few minutes until his face turned purple. Gwendal watched him quietly.

“You alright?” he asked once the bout had mostly passed.

“Y-yes, thank you,” Eldara breathed out. “Wh-who the hell gave you that idea?” He coughed again.

“You can fool Wolfram and others but you can’t fool me,” Gwendal said. Staring at the duke, he tapped the edge of his glass.

Eldara shook his head. “I wasn’t able to fool Wolfram either.”

“He knew?”

“Yes.” 

Eldara jumped in surprise as Gwendal slammed his palms onto the desk, the sound ringing like a shot. 

“So this damned engagement was a farce from the very beginning?” von Voltaire growled out at the startled duke.

An affirmative answer clearly was not welcome even though Eldara didn’t understand what difference it made as, in the end, the engagement had never gone through. “No, I don’t think so,” he said, folding the damp napkin and setting it on the desk. “Wolfram and I, we were ready to carry it out. That was until His Majesty Shibuya asked Wolfram not to marry me.”

“Did he confess?”

Eldara was uncertain about that. “It wasn’t exactly a confession.”

“Then what was it?” 

The duke shrugged. “He was asking for time to ascertain his feelings.” Interested, Eldara watched von Voltaire’s hands turn into fists.

Gwendal spat angrily, “That…” He trailed off but it was obvious that there was much more that he wanted to add to that sentence. “And what did Wolfram say?” he asked instead.

“Why don’t you ask him?” Eldara suggested. “A brotherly conversation must be much more comfortable than this one.” Von Voltaire appeared to be impatient, and, with a roll of his eyes, Eldara complied. “He didn’t say anything, but it had come to the point where we decided to terminate the engagement.”

“And thank the gods for that.”

The duke rolled his eyes again. He took the glass he had abandoned earlier and sipped the last drops. Gwendal took the bottle and filled it again. He thought about filling his own but lowered the bottle without doing that. Gwendal put his hands on the desk and interlaced his fingers. Just in case he felt the urge to strangle the pompous bastard. Eldara’s conceited smirk, excited sapphire eyes and dark violet hair that clung all over the younger man’s shoulders irritated him to no end.

“So, basically, you did all this to attract my attention?” von Voltaire summed up, exasperated.

The duke pretended to think. “Well, yes,” he said in a moment, “basically.”

Von Voltaire eyed him sternly. The duke stared back at him. 

“You’re a bloody idiot,” Gwendal declared.

Chuckling, von Ashira gave him an amused look. “Most people are of opinion that I’m rather smart.”

“You’re a bloody idiot,” Gwendal repeated. Unconsciously, his fingers separated and his palms pressed into fists. “He nearly married you!”

“I dare say that wouldn’t have been such a bad outcome.” 

“You…” Gwendal hissed. “Stop talking nonsense! It would have been a bloody disaster and you know it!”

The duke shrugged. “Maybe. The plan, however, was successful, wasn’t it?” he said, a satisfied grin on his face.

Something short-circuited in Gwendal’s brain, and he jumped from his chair. It took only a second to round the desk and, suddenly, he was in front of Eldara, dragging the duke up to his feet. He shoved the startled man backwards. Eldara stumbled, nearly falling over. He righted himself but Gwendal shoved at his chest again, and the duke’s back hit the wall. Von Voltaire drew up in front of the duke.

Wondering if Gwendal was going to hit him, Eldara stared at the other man’s furious visage. Von Voltaire was a little taller than him. His breath smelled of wine and recently eaten steak. There was also a trace of aftershave in the air. Eldara had noticed that von Voltaire didn’t use any other cologne.

Eldara was hard. Only when Gwendal felt him against his thighs did he become aware of their proximity. The other man’s obvious erection seemed to make von Voltaire even more outraged if that was even possible.

“You’re such a…” Gwendal growled out. He never finished the sentence because he suddenly found himself claiming that smirking mouth with his. His hands pressed against Eldara’s shoulders to keep him in place. The duke, however, wasn’t even thinking about going anywhere.

“Not trying to break free?” Gwendal mocked, raising his head. He pinned Eldara’s wrists to the wall. The question was absurd, but Gwendal just had to ask out of spite.

“Do you want me to struggle?” the duke asked. “I can if that will turn you on more.”

Gwendal didn’t answer anything. It didn’t make any sense for the younger male to struggle when he was obviously so into it. Von Voltaire hadn’t had many lovers but he had had his share of them. None of them, however, had ever been as eager and as stubborn as von Ashira. There was something about him, Gwendal knew, that usually put others off. It never lasted. He wasn’t a romantic soul. He found relationships bothersome and draining. People didn’t approach him either. If he found someone worthy of his attention, he had to work for it. He had always been the pursuer. Von Ashira, though… That was probably what made him so excited.

Gwendal let go of Eldara’s wrists, and the younger man’s arms wrapped around his shoulders. The annoying smirk had disappeared from the duke’s lips. His face was somewhat flushed, his pupils dilated and eyes hungry. The sight made Gwendal lose it again.

“You’re such a…” he grunted out for the second time.

Eldara chuckled, and his hands slid off Gwendal’s back to the front of his military jacket. He started fumbling with the buttons. To hurry it up, von Voltaire was already undoing his belt. In a few moments Eldara pushed the jacket and shirt out of his way. Gwendal’s trousers, together with his underwear, went down his hips and legs and pooled down at his ankles. He shivered when von Ashira’s fingers wrapped around his length. He was hard, probably no less hard than Eldara. It had been over two years since he had done anything sexual with someone else.

Von Ashira gave the cock several strokes. He noted how von Voltaire’s eyes widened at first then closed. Gwendal was a little bigger than he had expected. The length wasn’t a problem, but the girth would need time to get used to.

Their position didn’t make much sense, and von Ashira turned them around so that now it was Gwendal whose back was resting against the wall. He didn’t resist either as one of his most vital organs was in Eldara’s hand.

Eldara stroked Gwendal’s cock feeling how it became even larger and hotter. He, however, was no less interested in Gwendal’s face. Von Voltaire had his eyes closed, his breath coming out in puffs. He seemed not to be able to believe what was going on. That, however, didn’t prevent him from enjoying it. Eldara slid down to his knees. He felt Gwendal tense in anticipation and pushed the foreskin back.

Von Voltaire’s mouth fell open as the tip of his penis was engulfed by a wet, soft cavern. Eldara’s tongue pushed against the slit, and Gwendal’s knees nearly buckled. His hand slid into the younger male’s shoulder-length hair and found purchase there.

Gwendal was mostly quiet, Eldara noticed. He was swallowing even his grunts. He was somewhat out of breath, his face still locked in slight disbelief. His eyes were open now, watching his length slide in and out of Eldara’s mouth. At some point the instinctive urge to thrust had become too overwhelming, and Eldara had to keep his hips in place to stop himself from choking. 

His dick felt wonderful. Gwendal swallowed loudly, his fingers digging deeper into von Ashira’s scalp. He was staring down at von Ashira’s face, at his cock in the duke’s ravenous mouth. He found the sight exhilarating. He would have found it even more overwhelming if not for those overly satisfied sapphire eyes staring up at him from down below. It was clear that he was just as much in control as von Ashira let him be. Maybe that was what turned him on most, though. Dominance plays excited him.

Gwendal grunted when Eldara sucked harder. He came with a soft sigh. He didn’t even think of warning von Ashira. Just as he had thought, the duke had no complaints, swallowing everything that had come out.

With one last lick at the head and a gentle tug at the hairy testicles, Eldara stood up. Von Voltaire was watching him from under half-lidded eyes. Gwendal took several moments to regain his bearings. He bent down to gather his underwear and trousers and pulled them on. He buttoned them and buckled his belt. 

Von Voltaire’s hand pressed against the front of Eldara’s trousers. He traced the outline of the other man’s hard cock.

“Take them off,” he ordered, removing his hand.

Eldara didn’t need to be told twice. His fingers quickly found his belt and unbuckled it. The buttons came next, and the trousers fell to the floor, followed by the underwear. The duke gasped as Gwendal seized him firmly. It seemed that the man didn’t like to feel indebted. Eldara, though, didn’t think Gwendal should feel that way since he was certain that he was the one getting all the perks. Maybe Gwendal suspected that too.

Some precome had appeared on the tip, and von Voltaire smeared it over the length. Eldara had a nice cock; neither too large nor too small, the shape was ordinary as well. The pubic hair was just a shade darker than his hair. Violet pubic hair was quite exotic in Shin Makoku, not that one could walk around flaunting it. Gwendal could not help thinking that this same cock had probably been buried in his brother’s ass countless times. He didn’t quite understand how he felt about it.

Eldara was swaying lightly with every stroke, and Gwendal took the initiative of turning them around again. He pushed von Ashira against the wall, continuing to stroke. The duke’s blue eyes were fixed on him as if they were trying to take in every detail of his face.

Von Ashira was close now, his eyelids finally fluttering shut. Gwendal stroked faster, noting how von Ashira’s hips were desperately trying to thrust into his fist. Blindly, with his left hand, von Voltaire groped around in his pockets for a handkerchief. The dick was slick and hot in his hand. It was starting to pulsate now. Eldara opened his eyes, his right hand coming down to cover Gwendal’s. He felt the handkerchief in between them and moved his hand aside again. Everything had been taken care of thus there was no reason for him to hold back. 

The duke made quite a face when he came, not to mention the strange guttural moan that had escaped his mouth. Gwendal would have liked to see more, but he was busy making certain that nothing spilled over from the napkin. Once Eldara finished, Gwendal wiped him as best as he could and tossed the napkin to the floor. Not much had come out. Eldara had probably been busy with Wolfram. The thought made Gwendal grimace. He watched von Ashira pull his trousers up and tuck himself in.

“You’re hard again,” the duke noted with a glance between Gwendal’s legs. “Shall we repeat?”

“No, thanks,” Gwendal said, turning away. “At this rate, this could probably take all night.”

Eldara’s brows rose. “I don’t mind.”

“But I do.”

Gwendal circled the desk and seated himself back in his chair. Eldara followed his example and returned to his seat as well. He picked up his glass and chugged down the wine. His throat felt dry.

“You brothers are unique,” he said, lowering the glass.

“Hm?” Gwendal snorted. “Are you going to sample Conrart as well?”

Eldara chuckled. “Oh no, Weller’s already been sampled by my captain and quite thoroughly at that.”

Von Voltaire gave him an uncertain look. That was obviously news for him. “Ine?” he asked, still doubtful.

“Yes, Karela Ine. To be honest, I think Yozak is making a mistake letting it happen, but that’s none of my business.”

Gwendal inclined his head. “You’re right. It’s none of your business.”

Eldara was aware that von Voltaire was upset by the news. He seemed to be off-balance. There were more reasons for him to be off-balance, of course, than his half-brother’s love adventures. The duke decided to keep quiet for once.

Von Voltaire leaned back in his chair with a sigh and closed his eyes. He was aware of von Ashira’s curious silence but ignored it. There was too much drama going on all around him. He wasn’t used to this. His brothers had somehow managed to get themselves into demanding affairs, and he had gotten caught in the middle of them. Wolfram was finally through with von Ashira, but gods only knew how it was going to end with Shibuya. Conrart and Yozak’s relationship had always been abnormal. They had been together for most of their juvenile and adult lives. It wasn’t clear when their friendly relationship had turned into something more but once it had, it didn’t go as expected. From time to time, they would switch to other people then get back together again. The pattern was always the same. They weren’t simple sex friends either. There had been a few public jealousy bouts, which had mostly come from Conrart. Yozak, though, was no less possessive even though he pretended otherwise. It was a complicated relationship that no sane man in Shin Makoku wanted to interfere with. It only seemed to be predictable that they had involved a foreigner who hadn’t known better.

And now von Ashira.

Gwendal opened his eyes to look at the duke. Eldara was absently playing with his wineglass, watching the bubbles explode at the surface. He was definitely attracted to the man; he liked his assertiveness and confidence. Gwendal had never been particular about looks, but the duke was undeniably pleasant to the eye as well. He would certainly like to spend more time with von Ashira doing similar things to what they had done just now. This attraction, however, was leading nowhere. 

The duke sensed the gaze and met von Voltaire’s eyes. Gwendal sighed again. “What am I going to do with you?”

Eldara gave him a suggestive smile. “Anything you want.”

ooOoOoOoo

Wolfram and Gunter were in the Royal Garden, sitting on a bench in the shade of a jasmine bush. They were going to bloom in a few weeks, the buds hardly visible yet. The weather was as pleasant as it could get in the late spring.

Wolfram was telling Gunter about his winter stay in Raizgad. He was mostly talking about Salt, the duke’s cat, and how it lifted everyone’s (mainly Wolfram’s) spirits during the civil war. He thought they should get a cat too. Gunter pointed out that there were plenty of cats running around the castle and in its premises. The cats were necessary to control the pest population. Wolfram gave this a thought and admitted that, yes, he had seen a handful of cats near the stables and the kitchen larder. He explained though, that he was talking about a cat that wasn’t feral, was clean and liked to be stroked.

“All of them like to be stroked as long as you have something edible in your hand,” Gunter said. “And you can just toss them into a lake to wash up.”

Wolfram decided that it was pointless to talk about it with Gunter. The blond suspected that, after tossing a cat into a lake, no amount of bribery would earn back its trust. He wanted to hear a cat purr not hiss at him. Gunter, obviously, didn’t see a difference.

“Ah, I remembered that Gwendal and I arranged to meet at about noon. I had better go.”

That was rather sudden, and Wolfram gave von Christ a surprised look. At the same time, over Gunter’s shoulder, he spotted the king heading their way.

“Have fun,” Wolfram muttered to Gunter’s back. In truth, he wished for von Christ to stay. Any conversation with Yuuri threw him off balance, and he ended up turning back into that uncertain teenager that he felt so annoyed with. Yuuri had the ability to stir his emotions up to the point where he didn’t know what he really felt.

The king took Gunter’s seat. He and Wolfram hadn’t spoken since it was decided to terminate the engagement. For a few moments they sat quietly. Yuuri noticed that this time Wolfram appeared not as tense and hostile as all the previous times. The blond just sat there waiting for him to speak up.

As Yuuri stayed silent, Wolfram spoke first, “I will wait for my leg to heal and then I will return to Lesa Fort.”

“And then?”

“Hmm…I’ll probably return to my land and eventually replace my uncle. It will take time, of course, to learn the ropes.”

“You’re running away again,” Yuuri said accusingly, his voice permeated both with dread and discontent.

“The fact that I cancelled the engagement with von Ashira does not automatically mean that I am interested in you. Let us just separate as friends like last time.”

Yuuri snorted. “Like last time? Are you talking about that kind of friendship where you piss off to the back of beyond and the only thing you write about in your letters is the weather?”

Embarrassed, Wolfram ruffled through his blond hair. He gave Yuuri a look. “Why can’t you understand that I have spent almost an entire year trying to forget you? I have finally persuaded myself that nothing has ever been possible between us, and here you come expecting me to believe the opposite? This doesn’t even make any sense! How did you even…? How did it come to this?”

This was the question Yuuri didn’t have the answer to. Just like Wolfram, he didn’t understand it either. Expectantly, Wolfram was watching him, and Yuuri felt compelled to try and explain.

“Mm… I think it’s that banal ‘you never know what you have until you lose it’.”

“That’s bullshit.”

The king hummed, disagreeing. He wondered if he would ever be able to properly explain it to Wolfram. It was probably impossible. “Not exactly,” he said. “There is no logic to this sort of thing, you see. It just…started that way. It’s not like you were the only one suffering when we separated. It felt as if it was all my fault, and…”

Wolfram grunted. “Keeping in mind the current situation, it sure was!”

“Anyway,” Yuuri continued, “then you were kidnapped. I don’t think you realize how worried I was. I blamed myself again. You know, there were countless times when I wished I could accept your feelings, accept you. Everything would have been so much easier that way, I thought. None of that would have happened.”

The blond wondered about that. He had been so blind, so in love back then that he would have probably accepted this kind of pity.

“And then you appeared in Raizgad, wounded but alive. I felt incredibly relieved and...” Yuuri trailed off uneasily. “I know that my letters were far from perfect, but I hoped to maintain our friendship or, if it was no more, to renew it. I wrote about mundane things that I thought would remind you of home. Your sarcastic, crisp replies always hurt me. You wanted distance, meanwhile I was completely afraid of it.

“Then you returned. I’m still amazed at how much you’ve changed… And then, when I saw the two of you in your bedroom… That was probably the rudest wake-up call there is. I found out that he wanted to marry you. Oh boy, was I frustrated. I already wanted to see myself in his place. I can’t stand him.”

“You c-”

“Let me finish,” Yuuri said sternly. “I thought that maybe it was alright, that I deserved it, and shouldn’t interfere. Then you fell off the horse and got hurt. And it nearly drove me mad to see you trust him more than me, to see him take care of you. After all these years and you trust not me but some man you met hardly half a year ago! And I couldn’t keep quiet anymore.” Yuuri gave an exaggerated shrug to mark the end of his story.

They sat quietly, the king hopeful, Wolfram thinking about what he had heard. Yuuri’s explanation wasn’t very enlightening – it was rather a brief summary of key elements that had played a major part in Yuuri’s feelings. Wolfram still didn’t understand how it had all come to this moment. He felt confused, even more confused than when Yuuri had told him about his “possible” feelings for the first time.

Suddenly, Yuuri let out a chuckle. Wolfram looked at him.

“Don’t you find it funny how the tables have turned?”

“No, I don’t.”

Yuuri lowered his head. “Me neither.” He sighed. “Listen, you’ve been absent for nearly a year. A lot of things happened. I understand this may sound…”

“Exactly. A lot of things happened,” Wolfram agreed with him, sarcastically. “Only after I became engaged to another man did you decide that you might be interested in me. What is wrong with men that they find taken people to be so much more appealing than single ones?”

Irritated, Yuuri shook his head. “Didn’t you hear anything I said?”

“Yuuri, what exactly do you want from me? Don’t you realize how cruel you’re being?”

“I want you to give us one more chance.”

Wolfram sighed in exasperation. “How is that possible? You would faint at the very sight of an erect dick.”

The younger male blushed at the crude wording. “I didn’t. Remember?” His blush deepened even more while he was considering his answer. “You know, that time you and von Ashira… After that I couldn’t stop imagining it. I wanted to be in his place. I was incredibly envious.”

Wolfram gave him a skeptical look. It did seem that it had taken Yuuri a lot to admit the fact, but the blond found his shyness and the eager look in his dark eyes disturbing.

“I am certain that you will find many willing partners to experiment on.”

Yuuri nearly slapped him. “I’m telling you that I like you, and you’re making fun of me! It’s not just curiosity!”

“I’ve spent nearly a year trying to forget you! Do you even understand how I feel now?!” Wolfram hissed.

Yuuri squirmed uncomfortably, lowering his head. He did feel guilty, but he didn’t even think about backing off. “Who cares about that year, Wolfram? You keep repeating that, but what difference does it make?”

“It makes me feel stupid, you idiot!” Wolfram exploded at him. “And you don’t even care about my feelings! All I hear is – you, you and you! And what about me? You don’t even know if I still like you!”

“Oh gods!” Yuuri threw his hands apart, rolling his eyes upwards at the sky. “Of course you like me.”

Wolfram nearly sputtered in indignation. “Where the hell is that confidence coming from?”

Yuuri put his hand over his heart. “From here.”

Wolfram grinned involuntary while his eyebrows rose in disbelief. “That has got to be the cheesiest shit I’ve ever heard.”

His face red, Yuuri lowered his arm. “Well, at least I win at something.”

Wolfram rolled his eyes. He felt a little woozy and unstable. “I had no idea you could be so persistent.”

The king gave him an insulted look. “Of course I can be persistent.”

He could really be persistent when he wanted. However, most of the persistence Wolfram had seen concerned peace pacts and treaties.

“You surprise me,” Wolfram repeated. He rubbed at his forehead, trying to somewhat alleviate the building up pressure behind his eyes.

“Is that good or bad?”

“Neither.”

Yuuri leaned forward on his bench and rested his elbows on his thighs. He stared at his boots. “So what is your answer?” he asked a few moments later.

“I will think about it,” Wolfram muttered.

The king’s face beamed at him. “Really?”

“Yes.”

After a minute of silence Yuuri asked tentatively, “Can we try kissing?”

“No.”

TBC


	48. Part 48

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Kyou Kara Maou! – It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I’m not making any money from writing it.  
> Warnings: yaoi (male x male), violence, swearing, angst, drama. Wolfram-centric, out of character, original character.  
> Summary: With Yuuri’s upcoming birthday, Wolfram makes his decision. Where will it lead him and what is to become of them? Should eventually be Yuuri x Wolfram.  
> A/N 1: Yuuri – 18 years old. Wolfram – 21. Eldara – 32. Halea – 20. Athara – 18. Gwendal – 54.  
> A/N 2: Greta doesn’t exist.  
> A/N 3: European/American/Japanese standards all at once depending on the plot requirements.  
> A/N 4: A tendency to ignore the anime/manga and supplement the story with my own imagined facts.   
> A/N 5: Season III is not taken into consideration, except for the fact that Wolfram’s uncle exists.  
> A/N 6: The umlaut in Gunter’s name is a bother.

**Bloom**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Anonymously Awesome

Part 48

By the time Wolfram got up, it was almost breakfast. He had struggled to fall asleep and when he finally had, he hadn’t rested well due to the chaotic state of his mind. Two days had passed after his and Yuuri’s last conversation. The king hadn’t approached him anymore, giving him space to think. The “space” was almost non-existent since Yuuri kept sending both intense and concerned gazes his way. That hadn’t helped Wolfram regain his balance much.

The blond washed his face and neck in the bowl on the dresser. Drying himself with a towel, he looked at the mirror. His face was too pale; the skin under his eyes bluish and puffy from a lack of sleep. He took a hairbrush from the dresser and brushed his hair. It needed cutting as it nearly reached his shoulders. He had always worn his hair longish, but now it was just getting in the way. He wondered when he had become oblivious to his usually impeccable appearance. There were just too many things going on.

Wolfram put the brush away and limped over to the wardrobe. He didn’t need help dressing anymore but it still took him longer than usual. He threw a shirt on then got his uniform off the hanger before sitting on the bed in order to pull his trousers on. After that he buttoned his jacket, took another look at the mirror and limped over to the door to get his crutches from beside it. Just as he had gotten comfortable on them, there was a knock on the door. Wondering who it could be at this time, Wolfram gave them permission to enter. It was one of the maids, Darum. She was carrying a small bouquet of flowers, and a vase.

“Good morning, Your Highness,” she greeted cheerfully while Wolfram was leaning on his crutches, staring at her in confusion.

“Good morning,” he answered. “What’s this?” He watched the maid quickly walk into the room. She stopped at the desk, placed the vase on top and started arranging the flowers.

The maid turned to him. “His Majesty sent them,” she said, smiling brightly. “Spring flowers. Aren’t they beautiful, Sir? Tulips and daffodils. His Majesty wishes You a good day, Sir.”

Wolfram averted his eyes from her face to the flowers in the vase. He thought about sending them back, but there wasn’t much sense in that. Yuuri would just pout and try to talk him into accepting them. The king’s gesture was irritating Wolfram with its blatant obviousness and persistence. They were only flowers, but the insistent courting felt unpleasant. He hadn’t even given Yuuri a clear answer. Obviously, the king didn’t care.

“Thank you. You may go now,” Wolfram said when the maid finished arranging flowers and stood aside, waiting.

Wolfram left his room right after the maid did. He visited the bathroom and joined the rest of the household at breakfast table, greeting them as he entered. He was aware of the expectant look the king was giving him. Wolfram ignored it. Yuuri had sent him a gift and now expected immediate feedback. Wolfram decided that the king was obviously convinced that all it took to win him over was showering him with presents. Pathetically naïve.

Before breakfast Gunter informed Wolfram and Eldara that they were expected in his study after the meal. They were going to discuss the termination of their engagement. The cancelations had been sent out already but there were bound to be a few people who would not receive them in time and would arrive. They had to plan for those cases. Normally, it would have been taken care of by Gunter alone, but he and von Voltaire had decided that the culprits’ involvement would compensate for at least some of the problems they had caused. Both the duke and Wolfram had agreed that it was only fair.

Breakfast passed quickly, everyone enjoying their meal. As Wolfram was leaving the table, Yuuri’s patience snapped. 

“Did you receive the flowers?” he asked. 

“Yes, thank you.”

The king had obviously expected something more and wanted to add more, but Wolfram turned around and hobbled away on his crutches.

 

\---

The curtains were wide open, and Wolfram’s chair was pushed as close as possible to it without hindering the barber. They had kept the window itself closed though, as Wolfram thought that he might get cold in the breeze while having to sit still. 

Snippets of blond hair fell into his lap as he absent-mindedly watched them land. The barber had made an effort to start small talk about the beautiful spring weather, but Wolfram didn’t feel like maintaining the conversation, so now they were surrounded by silence. An occasional sound from the yard could be heard when the guards would laugh at something or shout out orders. Behind the door, in the corridor, Wolfram heard someone’s steps and then the maids’ giggles. They were obviously sharing the latest gossip.

There was a knock on the door and, grateful for the distraction, Wolfram called them in. Without turning his head, he looked at the maid who entered.

“Yes?”

She gave him a warm smile. “His Majesty is asking whether Your Highness would like to join Him for a cup of tea down in the garden.”

Wolfram grunted. A few more hairs fell down onto the towel drawn over his lap. He stared at the flowery tapestry on the wall in front of him.

“Your Highness?”

“Yes, tell His Majesty that I’m busy right now. I will join Him in an hour if He still wishes for it.”

The maid bowed quickly and excused herself. 

“Is the length at the front all right, Sir?” the barber asked, holding out a mirror in front of Wolfram.

The blond took a look and nodded. “Yes, it’s fine.” He turned his head this way and that. “The sides still look too puffy, though.”

“Yes, I will fix that, Sir.”

The barber put away the mirror and took up the scissors and comb again. 

Sometime later, someone knocked but, instead of the maid that Wolfram had expected to see, his brother appeared. Conrart entered the room and then became aware of the barber’s presence. His steps faltered.

“It’s alright,” Wolfram said, “he’s about to finish.”

The barber nodded. “Yes, just a few more minutes, Sir.”

Not waiting for an invitation, Conrart walked over to the sofa and seated himself. He wasn’t really certain how to start the conversation and whether it wouldn’t make Wolfram irritated. His brother might think that he had come here to gloat. He hadn’t, he was genuinely concerned about Wolfram. Unfortunately, that concern had the potential to annoy the blond even more.

The silence was interrupted by another knock on the door. Now it was the maid Wolfram had expected.

“Your Highness, His Majesty says He’s looking forward to the tea,” she said with a quick bow.

“Yes, thank you.”

She left, and Conrart gave his brother a curious look. “Since when are you sending messengers to each other?”

Keeping his head still, Wolfram rolled his eyes. “Since this morning apparently,” he said, pointing at the vase on the table in the middle of the room.

Conrart glanced at the bouquet of flowers and recognized it as the one he had seen one of the maids picking up in the morning. So this was where it had gone. 

His brother didn’t say anything, and Wolfram thought that maybe he hadn’t understood what he had meant. The small smile on Conrart’s face, however, proved that he knew very well what his brother was talking about. The blond suppressed a sigh. He and Conrart hadn’t spoken since the time he had announced the termination of the engagement. He had probably come to say how pleased he was with the outcome. Wolfram felt his mood nose-diving.

The barber finally finished and left. Wolfram offered some stewed fruit to Conrart, but he refused. 

“Is there something you want?” the blond asked, sitting down on the sofa next to the older man.

A particular look of bored annoyance filled his brother’s eyes, and Conrart shook his head. “No, I didn’t come here to gloat and say ‘I told you’. I just want to know how you’re doing.”

The blond felt a little embarrassed. He had an urge to answer that he was completely fine and close the topic but he wasn’t completely fine. Quite far from it.

His brother was quiet, and gave him a reassuring smile. “Now there’s at least one thing less to worry about.”

Wolfram leaned back into the sofa with a sigh. “I wish it were true.”

Conrart ventured a guess, “His Majesty?”

Wolfram let out another mighty sigh. “Yes, His Majesty. But you have known, haven’t you?”

Conrart nodded. “Presumed. He has become very sensitive to everything that concerns you.”

The blond shrugged apathetically. “I wish he had been sensitive back then.”

There was a lot of irritation in his brother’s voice, and he was obviously angry. There wasn’t only that, though. Conrart gave him a searching look. “You don’t like it?”

Wolfram opened his mouth then hesitated and closed it.

“I promise it will stay between us,” Conrart assured him.

Somewhat embarrassed, Wolfram shrugged. “Ah, no, it’s not that. It’s…complicated. I like it and I hate it. It angers me that he is able to brush everything off that happened in the past so easily. Well, it hasn’t been easy for me. I had to overcome a lot, and he suddenly disregards everything and wants me to do the same. How can I? I don’t even know if it’s not some kind of whim of his! He kept telling me that he didn’t like men, and now suddenly he is alright with them. I don’t get it. Honestly, it pisses me off how he’s so laid back about everything! It’s like this is a game to him!”

“I’m certain that it’s not like that,” Conrart said. “He’s…”

“Yes, you’re always on his side.” 

Conrart suddenly looked hurt. Wolfram felt guilty and ashamed. 

“I’m sorry, that was uncalled for,” he apologized.

Conrart was quiet for a few moments. “It’s true that I support him,” he said then, “but you are my brother. I only wish the best for you.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” Wolfram repeated. “I vented my frustrations on you.”

“His Majesty… I don’t think He’s laid back. He’s probably doing His best to appear so. He…” Conrart trailed off for a moment. “He comes from a completely different world, with different rules, different expectations. I’m certain that His Majesty had to overcome some of His worst fears to be able to voice His feelings for you. You will have to overcome yours to accept them.”

“I don’t know if I want to.”

Conrart nodded. “Yes, you’ll have to decide whether it’s worth the outcome you could hope for. I just think His Majesty is not as confident as he pretends to be if that’s what annoys you most.”

“He makes me feel as if I am thrown back in time again, back into that endless loop of desperation and frustration. He makes me feel…bare, unprotected… It’s like I’m reverting back to my old self. I don’t like that feeling. With Eldara it was different. I felt mature, safe.”

Conrart wondered how anyone could feel safe around von Ashira but didn’t voice his thoughts. “Wasn’t it because you two didn’t put any expectations on your relationship? And…excuse me for saying this, but it wasn’t it also because you entrusted the initiative to him: the more experienced person?”

Wolfram thought for a moment. “Maybe,” he said finally. “Maybe that’s why.” Conrart was probably right. It was strange how, while having good insight and seemingly giving good advice, he himself was stuck in a weird and, most likely, unwelcome relationship.

\- - -

Wolfram looked at the mirror and gave himself a critical appraisal. His reflection still looked somewhat pale, but there was nothing to be done about it unless one wanted to use rouge. Wolfram didn’t. His new hair-cut looked wonderful and Wolfram slid a hand over his hair, content. Smooth and soft. Splendid. His uniform was pristine, not a speck of dust as far as he could see.

Contrary to his flawless appearance, he was a mess inside. The conversation with his brother made him reevaluate some of his views, and it only led to another bout of confusion about what he really wanted and felt. 

Wolfram took his crutches and carefully descended the stairs. He turned towards the dining room then opened the door and stopped in the doorway, surprised. The table was set for six people, and five of them were already present, his seat being the only empty one.

Yuuri stood up to acknowledge Wolfram, and the blond’s eyebrows rose. The king felt his cheeks heat up. He motioned to the empty seat and Wolfram walked over to the table. Wolfram didn’t know what kind of face he was making, but it caused Yuuri give him a knowing look as if he was wondering whether he was disappointed that they weren’t alone.

The blond leaned the crutches against the edge of the table and, with Gwendal’s help, sat down. He reached down for the teapot at once. Conrart passed him the sugar while Gwendal pushed the large plate of cheesecake closer to him. 

“Thanks.”

Wolfram felt irritated and he could tell that everyone could sense that he wasn’t in the best of moods. He poured himself a cup and added some sugar. The tea consisted of a variety of herbs: chamomile, thyme and a few others that Wolfram wasn’t able to identify, which gave it a pleasant smell. It tasted good and he continued sipping for a while, listening to the conversation around the table. Cecilie and Gunter were discussing which summer flowers would be best to plant in the front yard. Conrart and Gwendal were making arrangements for a spar in the afternoon. They kept on talking about what needed to be improved in their techniques. Any other time Wolfram would have enthusiastically joined in their conversation, but now he didn’t feel like it.

The king watched the blond pouring himself a second cup. He found it amusing to see that Wolfram hadn’t expected to find others here. He had done that intentionally. Why exactly, Yuuri wasn’t certain. It was either so as not to appear too pushy or check how Wolfram would react to other people here instead of only him. It was probably both. Wolfram, though, was angry, and Yuuri couldn’t tell why. Everything he did seemed to irritate Wolfram. He felt that he was steadily losing points. Since Yuuri didn’t believe that he had ever accumulated many of them in the past, it was a scary feeling.

“So, Wolfram,” Yuuri said, forcing a happy smile, “what were you up to today?”

The cup in the blond’s hand faltered. He gave the king an apathetic look. “Well, I had my hair cut.”

Minus fifty points.

Yuuri’s smile thinned. He hadn’t noticed. Indeed, Wolfram’s hair was shorter and less bushy. He looked even more handsome if that was even possible. He should have noticed and complimented Wolfram as soon as he had entered the dining room.

“It suits you,” Yuuri said hoping that the admiration was showing on his face.

Wolfram rolled his eyes and shoveled more cake into his mouth. Yuuri’s face was encouraging him to continue and, after swallowing, he did.

“I intend to watch my brothers spar.” He turned to them. “If that’s alright with you.”

Conrart nodded while Gwendal shrugged indifferently.

“Can I come as well?” Yuuri asked.

Not certain whom he was asking for permission, the three men met each other’s eyes. It was Wolfram who was compelled to answer.

“Suit yourself.”

It didn’t appear to be much of an invitation, but Yuuri suppressed the feeling of uneasiness and contented himself by answering with a nod. 

At some point everyone returned to their business, and Wolfram was left alone at the table. Brooding, he stayed in the dining room for about twenty minutes then went upstairs to his room to relax. The climb required quite a lot of effort, but he knew his leg needed the exercise.

\- - -

Blinking, Wolfram sat up in his bed. He had fallen asleep. Yawning and rubbing at his eyes he looked out of the window into the darkness. A pang of guilt shot through his chest – he had missed his brothers’ spar. Yuuri had been waiting for him. Well, it was not as if they had made a promise, was it?

ooOoOoOoo

Naked, from the armchair at the curtained window, Karela watched Yozak and Conrart having sex. The bed was only about two meters away, all the candles on the bedside cabinet lit, so he was able to fully enjoy the view. Conrart was on his back while Yozak was thrusting in and out of him. The brunet’s head was thrown back, his unfocussed eyes staring upwards at the ceiling. He was biting his lower lip to keep himself from moaning. Little noises from the back of his throat were heard nonetheless.

Yozak reached out to stroke Conrart’s cock, and the brunet shuddered, his mouth finally falling open. Karela wondered if Conrart was more vocal with him not around. He was probably more active too. The older man seemed to feel a little awkward around him. Not that he could blame him.

“Uhn… ha…”

Conrart’s and Karela’s held each other’s eyes for a moment, then the brunet turned back to the ceiling and closed them. Karela wished it was him fucking Conrart instead of Yozak. He was painfully hard. He wanted to join the other two and bury himself into Yozak’s inviting ass that was undulating hypnotically. If he did, though, Yozak would come at once, leaving Conrart hanging.

“Nnnhhnn…”

The brunet’s fingers fisted into the bedding and it looked like he was about to come. Karela had seen him come only from anal stimulation alone. It had taken time for Yozak to get him there but once he had, it had been spectacular.

“Mnnhah!” 

Conrart’s knees went up to Yozak’s sides, his backside rising, opening himself up more and completely surrendering to the cock inside him. There it was. Karela watched the brunet’s face scrunch up with his orgasm. For a few moments, Conrart stayed still then his body started relaxing, his feet falling back onto the mattress.

Yozak waited for his lover to relax completely then pulled out. He was painfully hard, and it took most of his self-restraint not to push back into the slick, hot hole. He pulled the condom off, and Karela couldn’t keep still anymore. Quickly, he got up and went to the bed. He pushed at a surprised Yozak’s back, making him topple forwards. The red-head was barely in time to stretch his arms out to prevent himself from smashing against Conrart’s chest. Karela brushed his fingers over the ass crack in front of him and the red-head grunted approvingly. He got into a more comfortable position and spread his legs.

The jar of lubricant Yozak had discarded earlier was still lying on the bed, and Karela picked it up. He uncapped it and scooped up a generous amount with his fingers. Not wasting any time, he pushed the jar aside and slicked his cock with the lubricant. Using the excess, he rubbed his fingers against Yozak’s anus then pushed them in. 

Sweat beaded up on Yozak’s forehead while Karela teased his ass. The other male was slow, trying to keep him excited but, at the same time, douse his lust to the point where he wouldn’t come just from being penetrated.

Finally, Karela started pushing in, and Yozak braced himself, pressing his forehead against Conrart’s chest. He exhaled loudly once the other man was fully sheathed in him. His breath against Conrart’s skin made the brunet shiver. Yozak raised his head and nipped at his chest playfully.

Yozak was lying on top of Conrart, and, over his shoulder, Karela was able to see the brunet’s face. Every time he pushed deeper into Yozak, he imagined it was Conrart he was fucking. The brunet was aware of it and turned his eyes away a little awkwardly. 

Conrart was a remarkable man, and Karela did feel attracted to him. There were, however, severe restrictions when it came to that. Consciously or not, Yozak was very possessive of the man. It seemed to be more of an unconscious thing as Yozak had never voiced any complaints or preferences. He actually even avoided talking about it. There were no problems if Karela touched Conrart in Yozak’s presence, he even tolerated them kissing. When Karela, however, had pushed Conrart down for the first time, it was Yozak who ended up having sex with the brunet. Karela hadn’t thought much of that back then but the scenario kept repeating itself with Yozak getting in between them. He soon had learned that he was not allowed to fuck Conrart. Conrart didn’t seem to be keen on breaking the unwritten rule either. There was, no doubt, something off with their relationship. Karela couldn’t help but feel more and more annoyed with both of them.

ooOoOoOoo

It was unusually quiet at the breakfast table. Wolfram rested his crutches against the table and sat down while casually mentioning that he had fallen asleep yesterday and apologizing for it. He doubted anyone believed him, but the explanation dissipated most of the ominous mood.

They finished eating and soon started drifting apart to take up their daily tasks. Wolfram motioned for von Ashira to stay. Eldara rounded the table and sat down next to him. Just before leaving, the king cast him a discontent look, but the duke pretended not to notice it. 

“So how is it going with Gwendal?” Wolfram asked him once they were alone in the dining room.

“Uh.” Wolfram’s frankness made Eldara feel somewhat awkward. “I think it’s going. Only I don’t know whether forwards or backwards. Maybe sideways?”

Wolfram chuckled. “As long as you two are having fun.”

Eldara thought about it. He certainly was. He hoped von Voltaire was as well. He didn’t expect their relationship to last. It wasn’t going to. The thing between them was probably not something that he could call a relationship either. It would probably turn into something similar to what he and von Sedera shared. That would be good enough.

Eldara noticed Wolfram giving him a curious look. He laughed softly. “This is not the strangest affair I’ve ever had.”

Wolfram snorted. “Certainly not. Fucking a married man then the brother of the man you like, and now your ex-fiancé’s brother. I wonder what’s next.”

“Uh, it certainly sounds bad when you put it into words.”

“As if you’re surprised by that.”

Von Ashira sighed. He wasn’t. “And how are things on your side? I hear you stood His Majesty up yesterday?”

Wolfram rolled his eyes. He waved his hand as if to dispel the unpleasant topic. “I just fell asleep.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

Von Ashira was giving him a doubtful look, and the blond waved his hands about again. “Everything’s annoying me. I don’t want to deal with this. As soon as I am able to ride, I’ll be returning to Lesa Fort.”

“So you’re running away.”

“Yes, I am. And I don’t think it’s a bad thing. I am fed up with this. I want some space to think.”

“What if he doesn’t let you?”

Wolfram gave him an incredulous look. The thought had never occurred to him. Certainly, Yuuri was against him leaving, but to order him to stay…

“What if he chases you?”

“Ehm…” Indeed, Yuuri had become much more insistent than Wolfram had ever believed he could be. “I won’t let him.”

Eldara chuckled. “I actually hope you will. That would certainly make things interesting.”

“Always ready to make fun of other people’s misfortune.”

“Oh, just don’t lie that you’re not pleased by his attention. I can see perfectly well that you are.”

Wolfram glared at him. Then his features softened. “Is it so obvious?”

“Yes, it is.”

Wolfram pursed his lips. Yuuri’s attention did please him, there was no use denying it. The fact remained however, that he found the whole situation more annoying than pleasant. He sighed again.

“Why weren’t you at the tea party yesterday?”

The sudden change in topic made the duke blink. He thought for a moment. “Tea party? When was that?”

Wolfram rolled his eyes. Yuuri had purposely left Eldara out. No surprises there. “I see,” he said. “Come with me today in the afternoon for a tea break with His Majesty.”

Eldara gave him a bored look. “Can you spare me from taking part in your punishment games?”

Wolfram’s eyebrows rose. “You’re one to talk. This is only a fraction of what you owe me for your machinations.”

TBC


	49. Part 49

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Kyou Kara Maou! – It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I’m not making any money from writing it.  
> Warnings: yaoi (male x male), violence, swearing, angst, drama. Wolfram-centric, out of character, original character.  
> Summary: With Yuuri’s upcoming birthday, Wolfram makes his decision. Where will it lead him and what is to become of them? Should eventually be Yuuri x Wolfram.  
> A/N 1: Yuuri – 18 years old. Wolfram – 21. Eldara – 32. Halea – 20. Athara – 18. Gwendal – 54.  
> A/N 2: Greta doesn’t exist.  
> A/N 3: European/American/Japanese standards all at once depending on the plot requirements.  
> A/N 4: A tendency to ignore the anime/manga and supplement the story with my own imagined facts.   
> A/N 5: Season III is not taken into consideration, except for the fact that Wolfram’s uncle exists.   
> A/N 6: The umlaut in Gunter’s name is a bother.

**Bloom**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Anonymously Awesome

Part 49

After having made Eldara promise to take part in the afternoon tea party, Wolfram went back to his room. He intended to read one of Gunter’s books. Currently, he wasn’t in the mood for kinky stories. Instead he was thinking something along the lines of military history.

He hadn’t noticed the aquarium at first but stopped on his way into the room to stare at the glass enclosure filled with colorful fish. It had obviously been put on the nightstand while they had been having breakfast.

Surprised, Wolfram stumbled over to the bed and flopped onto it. He frowned at the dull pain in his thigh then raised his eyes to stare at the aquarium and the peacefully swimming fish inside it. There was a little red house and a sunken boat on the sandy bottom of the tank. A few locks and tufts of different water plants were floating upwards from tiny pots. The fish were diving and swimming in circles around them.

Yuuri must have ordered the aquarium and the fish so that he didn’t feel bored or lonely. Indeed, one could spend hours upon hours watching the colorful fish leading their tranquil lives. It must have taken some time to fulfil the order since he was already able to get around well on the crutches and didn’t spend as much time in his bedroom. 

Wolfram realized that he was smiling. The grin quickly disappeared from his face. It did feel pleasant, the attention, the thoughtfulness. Was it all really Yuuri though? Or had the king been given advice?

Turning so he would be able to see the swimming fish, the blond lay down on his side. Did it matter?  
_ _ _

It was time for tea, but Wolfram was nowhere to be seen. He had also skipped lunch and the maid, who had been sent to call him downstairs, had returned to inform the household that the blond was asleep. Finally, Eldara decided to go upstairs and check what was going on. He knocked and heard a muffled rumble. Interpreting it as a permission to enter, he opened the door. Wolfram was on the bed, yawning and rubbing his eyes. 

“Overslept again?”

“Mnhmnhm?”

“Lunch is over. Everyone’s moved to the terrace.”

Eldara watched the blond carefully leaving the bed. There was something peculiar about him and his timed sleeping spells. It was probably a half-conscious way to deal with the tension. He was obviously reluctant to meet the king.

“Where did this come from?” the duke asked, pointing at the aquarium.

“The King.”

“Right.” Eldara approached the aquarium to take a look at the fish. “Do you like fish?”

“Not particularly,” Wolfram said, taking his crutches and leaning on them. “These are nice to look at, though.”

Eldara nodded, agreeing. It was an ingenious gift, but obviously Wolfram found it too pushy an effort. The duke, however, could understand the king’s desperation. Shibuya of Shin Makoku had finally opened his eyes and realized that having overlooked von Bielefeld was the worst mistake he had ever made.

Wolfram moved towards the door, and Eldara followed him. They went down the stairs and headed for the dining room. The afternoon was sunny and, for the first time this spring, hot. Those who weren’t bound by the dress code regulations were walking around with short-sleeved shirts and blouses. All the windows had been opened wide and a light breeze could be felt in the halls.

The pair crossed the dining room and went to the terrace, which faced the Royal Garden. The household had had lunch and, under Cecilie’s request, from the dining room had moved to the terrace. They were sitting at a round table, waiting for Wolfram to appear. Conrart, though, had excused himself and had gone to the yard to join Yozak and Karela. 

At the sight of von Ashira on the terrace Yuuri’s face clouded over. He didn’t find his presence surprising, though. They greeted each other politely and took their seats. After some small talk about the weather, the tea and desserts were served.

The party relaxed in their seats, holding their cups and sipping contentedly as their stomachs digested lunch. The day was so fine that even the conversations petered out, with everyone just happy to quietly bask in the sun and admire the newly-sprouted greenery. 

Wolfram took his jacket off and hung it over the back of his chair letting the warm breeze ruffle his cravat and wide sleeves. He felt much cooler in just his shirt. He hadn’t had lunch and now was sorting through various muffins, cookies, and bagels on the beautifully decorated plates.

Gwendal watched his brother stuffing his mouth, chasing down the sweet pastries with tea. Wolfram was barely past twenty and was already flanked by his two ex-fiancés. That was a disturbing achievement. However, it was a given considering his looks. In the past, his innocent, boyish cuteness had attracted all kinds of pedophilic creeps. Now his striking facial features had become masculine, commanding attention by a completely different type of admirer. Wolfram was certainly aware of his beauty, but Gwendal doubted that his brother noticed the full extent of its impact. The soldiers in the yard spent most of their time ogling the blond instead of training properly. 

Von Voltaire hummed thoughtfully under his breath. And yet, Wolfram’s appearance had nothing to with his first accidental engagement. It, however, probably had something to do with its long-term duration. He could only guess that it was one of the reasons why the king had felt reluctant to break off the engagement. Von Ashira, on the other hand, would have bedded Wolfram had he looked no better than a monkey. Just to spite him.

Gwendal cast a displeased look towards the duke. Von Ashira noticed his stare and seemed to be surprised by the anger in it. He blinked slowly as if asking what it was about. Von Voltaire ignored him and reached out for his empty cup.

“More tea?” Cecilie suggested while already lifting the teapot and passing it over the table.

Gwendal nodded, taking it. “Yes, thank you.” 

“A messenger,” Gunter said, pointing somewhere above the roofs.

Everyone’s eyes followed the gesture and noted a humanoid figure in the sky.

“A kohi,” Yuuri said. He stood up and waved to catch the skeleton’s attention.

In a few moments the skeletal messenger landed on the terrace. It was carrying a small scroll. The skeleton had a purple band tied around its left wrist and a unique brass ring with a coat of arms on one of the bony fingers, indicating it as a von Christ’s property. Gunter pushed his chair away from the table and walked over to take the parchment. He unfolded it.

“Ah,” he said after having glanced at the message. “The von Wardens have just entered the city premises. They should be here in a few hours.” He looked at Wolfram and von Ashira. “As agreed, we will inform them of the changes in the plans and, if everything goes well, send them back tomorrow.”

Wolfram nodded. It was going to be Eldara who was going to spend most time with the guests as Wolfram could barely walk. In any case it was just going to be an outing and dinner with a couple of musicians and singers then a goodbye tomorrow.

Gunter dismissed the messenger and it flapped its bony wings again, rose into the air then dove downwards and soared through the garden, heading for the training yard where it was going to wait for further orders.

“More tea?” Cecilie offered when von Christ returned to his seat.

Eldara watched the brothers and von Christ pass their cups to her. Cecilie started filling them. The duke found it curious that during meals they hardly ever used the help of their servants. They would set the table then leave during the meal. In general, they were rarely called for help.

“No, thank you,” Yuuri said when Cecilie wanted to fill his cup. “I still have some left.”

“Isn’t it tasty?” Cecilie asked somewhat disappointed. 

“It really is,” Wolfram assured her immediately. He was on the third cup already; the unusual sweetish taste went very well with the pastries.

Cecilie gave her son a pleased smile. “I was told it was specially picked and dried by thirteen virgin girls in Teriapolis.”

The men looked at their cups. Yuuri had more than half left. He found the taste peculiar. It was bittersweet with a tinge of something that the king deemed unsuitable for tea. Upon swallowing, it seemed to acquire a clammy texture. 

“Why thirteen?” von Ashira asked, interested.

Cecilie thought for a few seconds. “I never asked,” she said. “Maybe it affects the taste?”

“Why virgins?” Gunter wondered, taking a large sip of his tea; suddenly, it tasted much better.

Von Ashira laughed. “Finally, someone’s asking the real question here!”

With a snort, Gwendal rolled his eyes. He turned to the duke. “You would certainly be more interested in this tea if it had been picked by thirteen virgin boys, wouldn’t you?”

Eldara grinned at him flirtatiously. “I think my interest would stay about the same,” he said. “However, if it had been you who had picked it, I would savor every drop.”

Frowning, Yuuri looked around uncertainly. Wolfram was trying to fish out a tea leaf from his cup with a teaspoon. Cecilie was inspecting her impeccable manicure. Gunter was pouring himself more tea. He lowered the teapot with a soft clang back onto the table.

“But really,” he said, “why did they have to be virgins?”

With a shrug, Cecilie threw her hands apart.

Yuuri started at the sound of something thumping onto the floor. He turned to see Wolfram lying on the tiles, next to his chair.

“Wolfram!” Yuuri called. Worried, he jumped off his chair and rushed to the blond’s side. “Wolfram, what’s wrong?” he called again, shaking the blond, trying to elicit some kind of response.

“Mmm?” Wolfram hummed, his emerald eyes focusing on the king’s face. He smiled brightly. “I love you.”

Yuuri was taken aback. Amidst the confusion he felt a beacon of joyous light ignite itself inside him. He smiled back at Wolfram. “Really?”

The blond blinked up at him from the tiled floor. “I hate you!” he suddenly spat fervently, his hand slapping Yuuri across his stunned face.

The slap wasn’t strong and didn’t hurt much, it only increased the bewilderment the king felt. Rubbing at his nose, he leaned away from Wolfram. With a sigh, the blond rolled away from the direct sun and under the table and curled up there. Baffled, Yuuri stared at his back. 

“Is he sleeping?” he asked uncertainly.

No one answered. He stood up slowly. There was something very wrong. Cecilie had a thoughtful look on her face. She stood up and bent over the table to retrieve the teapot. She lifted the lid and looked inside. 

“I think it might have been just a little too much,” she said.

“You think?” Gwendal wondered while mixing his tea. He was absently staring at the soles of his brother’s boots protruding from under the table. The soft clang of the teaspoon continuously hitting the porcelain walls of the cup echoed loudly in the confused silence. Yuuri couldn’t believe his eyes but he could clearly see von Ashira’s hand stroking the inside of von Voltaire’s left thigh.

“What the…?”

Yuuri’s further observations and possible comments were interrupted by something lunging at his back. He yelled in surprise as he was flattened to the floor, face-first.

“Your Majesty, have I told You that You look magnificent today?”

“No, Gunter, you haven’t,” Yuuri grunted out, trying to get von Christ off his back. “And, in truth, I’d rather not hear that from you.” His eyes went wide when he felt von Christ’s hands groping at his midsection underneath his jacket. Gunter was obviously trying to reach his belt buckle. Yuuri changed the tactics and, instead of trying to throw Gunter off, flattened himself to the floor. “What the hell are you doing?” he hissed.

“I’m trying to prove my love to You, my Majesty!”

Yuuri froze in shock. “What love? Why? I didn’t ask you to!”

“You needn’t ever ask me, my Majesty! I’m always ready to fulfill every wish of Yours!” 

Von Christ bodily lifted the lighter man of the tiles and undid the buckle in one expert twist of his fingers.

“What the hell is going on?!” Yuuri yelled, horrified.

“I’m all Yours, my Majesty!” Gunter swore his loyalty to Yuuri’s back while trying to pull his trousers down at any cost. 

“Gunter, stop that! Help! Do something!” The king let out a desperate shout. He raised his head towards the indifferent people sitting at the table. “Anyone? Please!”

Cecilie clasped her hands. “Oh, dear. This is not what I had in mind. What do we do?”

“How about you finally help me?!”

“Yes, right, right,” Cecilie muttered, rushing over to Yuuri. She grabbed von Christ’s shoulder, one at first then both of them and tried to peel him off the prone king. Gunter’s iron grip on the younger man’s trousers didn’t lessen one bit. Cecilie tugged harder, and Yuuri’s backside suddenly felt somewhat drafty.

Gunter sputtered in awe at the twin globes. Blinded by the pale moons, he shoved at Cecilie none-too-gently. “Go away, woman! I’m not a violent man, but no one will stand in the way of true love!”

“Are you completely mad?” Yuuri hissed, trying to get to his feet. He almost succeeded then Gunter was on his back again. “Shit!” the king cursed. “Get off me or I’ll give the order to have your hands chopped off!”

“My King! My love!”

Cecilie seized von Christ’s left arm and pulled him away with one strong tug. Gunter stumbled and flopped onto the floor. He immediately jumped back to his feet, anger clear on his face. He grabbed at his side where usually his sword hung. Fortunately, it was missing as he had left his at the entrance of the dining room, like the rest of them. A disappointed growl left his mouth, but he lunged at Cecilie barehanded.

A water dragon slammed in Gunter’s side, tossing him off the terrace and into the air, where he suddenly hung suspended in a bubble of water. The king felt von Christ attempting to summon the air element and cut off the developing link, leaving von Christ helpless. Just in case, he disabled all elemental contracts in the area.

Cecilie rushed to the parapet. Gunter was choking in the bubble of water, his arms and legs flailing wildly about. Before Cecilie could get worried, the bubble with von Christ soared down through the air and landed in the flower bed next to the entrance to the castle. It burst with a loud pop, dousing all the nearby plants. Gunter flopped onto the grass coughing and vomiting water. Cecilie exhaled in relief seeing that there was no danger to his life.

“What was in the tea, Woman?”

Cecilie turned around. “Your Majesty.” With a smile, she tried to soften the ruthless look in the king’s dark eyes but her smile was wasted on him. “Love powder, Your Majesty. True Love powder that I g-” The king’s raised hand stopped the flow of her words.

“If you ever do that again,” the king said, his hand suddenly pointing at the terrace floor below them, “you will end up much worse than he did.”

Cecilie blinked slowly then felt compelled to curtsy. “I apologize Your Majesty. It will not happen again,” she promised.

“Apology accepted.”

Cecilie smiled brightly at him. There was something flirtatious in her gaze, and the king realized that his trousers and underwear were still down, pooling on the floor around his ankles. Fortunately, his long, white shirt was covering his manhood. The king saw something in the woman’s eyes that implied that she wouldn’t mind getting the shirt out of the way. He chuckled. Pulling his trousers up and buttoning them, he cast a look at the rest of the table. Von Ashira was on von Voltaire’s lap, straddling him and the chair. The king wasn’t able to see well but it was obvious that the two were engaged in some lewd play with their mouths and tongues. The lapels of their upper clothes flapped around while their hands and fingers explored each other vigorously. Von Bielefeld slept on under the table, completely unaware of what was going on above him.

The king walked over to von Bielefeld’s unmoving body, squatted down and pulled him out from under the table. He hefted the blond into his arms, stood up and with one last look at von Ashira and von Voltaire, left the terrace.

Wolfram was heavy. The king huffed while climbing up the stairs. He wasn’t used to weight like this; his half-Human and half-Demon body was quite useless. He adjusted his grip on Wolfram and the blond’s eyelids fluttered open. The emerald eyes, full of honest confusion, stared up the chandelier on the ceiling then concentrated on the king’s face. 

“Yuuri?”

“No.”

“Mmn?”

The blond blinked, seemed to think for a moment then fell asleep again.

Shinou chuckled. He finished climbing the stairs and headed for Wolfram’s room. It took him a few moments to lower the handle then he pushed the door open with his foot. He headed for the bed, lowered the blond’s upper body onto the covers while still holding on to his legs. Wolfram’s boots didn’t come off easily but he finally managed to remove them and arranged them neatly next to the bed. 

The blond looked serene on the blue bedcover. His relaxed face, slow breathing and sprawled limbs were the incarnation of innocence. The purity of this moment was nothing but illusion. The king was thinking about von Bielefeld and von Ashira on this same bed enjoying the pleasures of sex. He reached out for the blond’s cravat and undid it. The small buttons on the shirt posed no trouble either. The king touched Wolfram’s throat then slid his hand downward over the bare chest. His fingers reached the belt buckle and he thought about undoing it but stopped there. Instead, he brushed over the blond’s lips, wondering how kissing them would taste. Regretfully, it wasn’t the time yet.

Shinou leaned away from the bed, straightening up. He rounded the bed, sat down on the other side, took his boots off and climbed into it. With an exasperated sigh, he settled down next to Wolfram’s side. Ever since the fateful engagement slap on the blond’s cheek, he had always considered Wolfram his and found Shibuya’s thoughts concerning the blond infuriatingly pathetic and ridiculous. It had taken a lot of time but not much effort to shift Shibuya’s feelings. Shibuya was a hopeless romantic. It was probably due to his virginal inexperience. Shibuya had urges just like every man, but he mostly considered and accepted them as something ethereal, not something that was supposed to be fulfilled. Shibuya was also very traditional and innocent in his views of courting. 

The king turned his head sideways. The blond’s profile looked regal from this angle. Shinou had often thought that the blond’s looks reminded him of his own forgotten features from long ago. He had been just as handsome, if not more so. But that had been a long, long time ago. Was this narcissism? Maybe. And maybe that’s why Wolfram’s clean-cut features made Shinou want to pinch the blond’s pointy nose. It was frustrating. Physically, Wolfram was right here, but in all other senses he could have as well been on another planet. 

Shibuya had always had a soft spot for Wolfram, so it hadn’t been difficult to make him think that there was more to it. There wasn’t a clear boundary where Shibuya’s consciousness ended and his own began. Shibuya was the dominant one in their world but their emotions and desires often intersected, mixing until it was difficult to tell which one they had originated from. He was mostly dormant, only catching a glimpse of ever passing life here and there. The more he watched, the more he wanted to interfere, and he knew he had no right to. Just sometimes, very rarely, he manipulated Shibuya to do what was right, to do what he wanted. Actually, to do what they perhaps both wanted, but Shibuya had no balls to.  
_ _ _

Yuuri woke up to movement next to him. Still half-asleep, he raised his head and, upon seeing nothing but darkness, tried to understand where he was. There was a crash and a curse then a crash again. Suddenly, there were several flashes of light and the darkness was dissipated by floating balls of flame. When Yuuri’s eyes adjusted to the light, he realized that he was in Wolfram’s room. The blond was huddled on the floor, still cursing. He was clutching at his toes that he had obviously hit on the leg of the table. 

Confused, the king stared at the blond’s back. He remembered the series of awkward incidents on the terrace, but neither had memories of entering Wolfram’s bedroom nor of climbing into the bed. 

“Is everything alright?” Yuuri asked.

Wolfram’s head snapped around to face him. “No!” he hissed. “It hurts! I feel sick! I want to go to the bathroom! Where are my crutches? And why are you in my bed? Was it you who undid my shirt?”

Yuuri blinked at Wolfram’s angry face then his eyes slid towards the blond’s chest. The shirt was more or less in place now, but, indeed, he had a vague recollection of touching Wolfram. “Yes, I think it was me.”

“Fuck you, asshole! Help me get to the bathroom!”

Yuuri stumbled out of the bed at once. “Yes, of course.” He pulled his boots on and approached Wolfram, who was balancing on one leg while trying to put as less stress as possible on the injured one. Awkwardly, Yuuri wrapped his arm under the blond’s shoulders and steadied him. Wolfram’s warmth and pleasantly familiar scent enveloped his senses. Through the poorly buttoned shirt, Yuuri caught a generous glimpse of Wolfram’s bare chest and suddenly felt grateful for this moment of opportune intimacy. His own thrill, however, made him feel embarrassed. “Wouldn’t it be easier if I searched for the crutches?” he muttered.

“I can’t wait!”

“Right.”

They left the room and headed for the nearest bathroom. It was late evening so candles and oil lamps had been lit here and there. Wolfram recalled his fire element. He couldn’t understand where the day had gone and why he felt so sick. He soon felt that his feet were freezing and only then noticed that he had left his room in socks. Irritated, he leaned even more of his weight on Yuuri. He was half-limping and half-hopping and his thigh still hurt. He cursed under his breath.

“I’m sorry about the shirt. I don’t really know how it…”

“Shut up.”

Yuuri closed his mouth. He didn’t really care about the silly shirt. He was more worried about not knowing what exactly had happened and not remembering more of what Shinou had done while in control of his body. He had known that Shinou was interested in Wolfram but there was an unwritten rule between him and Shinou that they had never broken until now: never do anything drastic while acting as the other. There was no characterization of what “drastic” entailed, but Yuuri was worried that maybe that was exactly what Shinou had done while sharing Wolfram’s bed.

The bathroom was occupied. Wolfram knocked on the door impatiently.

“Taken!”

It was Gwendal’s voice, and Yuuri looked at the door hopefully.

Wolfram huffed irritably. “Hurry up!”

A series on strained grunts were heard from the inside of the bathroom then Gwendal’s voice wafted through the door again, “Go to the first floor!”

“I can’t wait!”

“I don’t think standing here will do any good,” Yuuri said, tugging Wolfram away from it. The blond’s pale face was worrying him. It seemed that he was about to throw up. It had to be that accursed True Love powder.

They managed to reach the other bathroom on the first floor without any incident only to discover that it was also taken. 

“Who’s in there?” Wolfram demanded while knocking violently on the door. “Let me in!”

“Wolfram, is that you?”

“Eldara? Let me in!”

“Err… It’s sort of an emergency in here.”

“It’s an emergency here too!” Wolfram shrieked indignantly. “Open the door!” He slammed his fist against the wood while trying to hold everything in and horrified by a very high probability of himself starting to squirt from both ends.

Having had food poisoning a few times himself, Yuuri knew what Wolfram was going through. The same thing was clearly happening to Gwendal and von Ashira. True Love powder appeared to have strong side effects. Hoping against hope, Yuuri half-carried and half-dragged the blond to the servants’ quarters. The bathroom there was also locked.

“Go away!” Gunter moaned when Yuuri banged on the door. “Leave me be! Leave me here to my misery! Oh woe is me!” 

His complaints and pleas were suddenly accentuated by the sounds of explosive diarrhea that made Yuuri retreat from the door in revulsion. Wolfram became even paler if that was possible.

“...ing ta hurl…” he rasped out suddenly.

And he did. Yuuri managed to get him only as far as the kitchen back door. He kept hold on Wolfram to help him balance while the contents of his stomach splattered all over the wooden doorstep. Yuuri frowned at the stench. He held the blond until he was done heaving and spitting.

“Feel better?”

“No,” Wolfram moaned. “The bathroom! There is an outhouse next to the soldiers’ barracks!”

“Right.” Yuuri opened the door and, stepping over the puddle carefully, guided the blond outside. “Why don’t you just squat down behind that bush?” he suggested as the outhouse was on the other end of the yard. It was, very likely, dirty and Wolfram was only in his socks.

“The outhouse!”

“Alright.”

The outhouse was thankfully unoccupied and Wolfram locked himself inside. Yuuri retreated to a safer distance. In a few moments, the blond demanded the king bring a basketful of paper and when he had, told him to go away. 

TBC


	50. Part 50

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Kyou Kara Maou! – It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I’m not making any money from writing it.  
> Warnings: yaoi (male x male), violence, swearing, angst, drama. Wolfram-centric, out of character, original character.  
> Summary: With Yuuri’s upcoming birthday, Wolfram makes his decision. Where will it lead him and what is to become of them? Should eventually be Yuuri x Wolfram.  
> A/N 1: Yuuri – 18 years old. Wolfram – 21. Eldara – 32. Halea – 20. Athara – 18. Gwendal – 54.  
> A/N 2: Greta doesn’t exist.  
> A/N 3: European/American/Japanese standards all at once depending on the plot requirements.  
> A/N 4: A tendency to ignore the anime/manga and supplement the story with my own imagined facts.   
> A/N 5: Season III is not taken into consideration, except for the fact that Wolfram’s uncle exists.  
> A/N 6: The umlaut in Gunter’s name is a bother.

**Bloom**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Anonymously Awesome

Part 50

Yuuri knew that it wasn’t a good idea to leave Wolfram alone as the blond had demanded; without his crutches Wolfram had trouble even standing straight. Yuuri went to check on him twice but was told to go away both times. Then Yuuri decided to search for Gisela instead, hoping that she would have a remedy or some practical advice.

There was a sleepy guard at the entrance to the soldiers’ quarters. Upon recognizing the king, he drew himself taller and saluted.

“Your Majesty.”

Yuuri waved him off absent-mindedly. The guard opened the door for him and Yuuri stepped inside. It was dark, the corridor lit by only one feeble oil lamp set in front of one of the windows. The medical bay was close to the entrance, just one turn away. Gisela usually stayed in the room next to it.

It had taken about five minutes of insistent knocking for the healer to open the door. The yawn froze on her face in surprise at the sight of the king.

“Your Majesty? What happened?”

Gisela was wearing a long flowing nightshirt of fine texture, and Yuuri found his eyes immediately drawn to the twin pebbles on her chest poking out from underneath the fabric. He caught himself, blinked and looked at her face again.

“Uh. Wolfram.”

“Oh. Did he drink that tea as well?”

Yuuri was surprised that the healer had caught up so quickly. He nodded. “Yes, he’s in the bathroom. All hell’s broken loose in there.”

Gisela sighed. “Could you wait for a moment, Your Majesty?”

Yuuri nodded, and she disappeared behind the door. She returned in a minute with a bathrobe on and a key in one hand and an oil lamp in the other. She passed the king and asked him to follow her to the medical bay.

“Your Majesty, I was informed that You had also drunk the tea,” she said on their way. “Are You experiencing any of the poisoning symptoms?”

Yuuri thought for a moment while checking his senses. “No, I don’t think so. I feel completely fine.”

“Oh? Good to hear, Your Majesty.”

There was some doubt in Gisela’s voice, and Yuuri tried to explain, “I didn’t like the taste, so I barely drank the tea.”

The healer gave him a curious look. “And yet Your Majesty has been asleep until now…”

“Oh, that. It was…” Yuuri trailed off; he always felt reluctant to talk about the First Demon King. “I was tired,” he said instead. “Besides, my body is probably immune to that type of potion.”

Upon hearing the defensive notes in the king’s voice, Gisela inclined her head politely and didn’t say anything anymore. It was probably the truth as some half-bloods reacted to certain medicine and poison just as Demons would while others more like Humans. In fact, it even varied every time depending on the substance. Unfortunately, Von Ashira had gotten the short end of the stick in this case.

The healer unlocked the door to the medical bay, and they entered the room. She raised the oil lamp higher and made her way to her work desk. There were several bottles out in the open that she had last used. She brought the oil lamp closer to them to read the labels then took one of them and held it out for the king. 

“I gave it to everyone who had that tea. It won’t work at once but should alleviate the symptoms by the morning.”

“Thank you,” Yuuri said, inspecting the bottle in half-light. “How do I…?”

“Five drops in a cup with warm tea or water, Your Majesty.”

“Right. Won’t he just throw it back up?”

“If it happens in less than half an hour then repeat again, Your Majesty.” She gave him a curious look. “Should I make him drink it myself, instead?”

Yuuri shook his head. “Ah, no. You can go back to sleep. I would like you to take a look at them in the morning and see if there’s been any improvement.”

She bowed her head. “Of course, Your Majesty.” That was what she had planned in the first place.

Yuuri thanked her again and headed back to the main entrance and then to the kitchen. It was very warm inside the charcoals still simmering inside the stove. There was a large pot on it with water that had been kept warm. The kitchen staff was probably going to use it to wash up in the morning.

With a cup of warm water and several drops of medicine in it, Yuuri returned to the outhouse.

“Can’t you just leave me alone?” Wolfram groaned from behind the door when Yuuri banged on it with his foot.

The king raised the oil lamp he was carrying higher, and Wolfram squinted into the light that reached him through the heart-shaped hole in the door.

“I brought you some medicine. Gisela said it should eventually work.”

“Eventually…” Wolfram repeated mockingly. “Eventually I will puke and shit my guts out completely.”

“Do you want the medicine or not?” Yuuri asked, annoyed with the blond; he had awakened Gisela for it, and the blond was being an ungrateful ass.

“Of course I do!” Wolfram spat through the door.

“She said to give you another one if you throw this up in less than half an hour.”

“Right. Thanks,” Wolfram said, opening the outhouse door slightly.

The king held out the cup and watched it disappear inside. It reappeared quickly and was empty.

“Go to sleep.”

“And how will you return?”

“Ugh, yes. Can I ask you to bring my crutches over here?”

“And who will give you another dose of medicine if you throw this one up?”

“Don’t we have servants for that?”

Yuuri rolled his eyes. “You got me there. Now keep quiet.”

About ten minutes later he heard Wolfram throw up and wordlessly left to get another cup of medicine. In the end, he stayed up together with Wolfram until five in the morning. By that time, Wolfram felt somewhat better and was able to leave the outhouse. Perhaps the improvement had occurred just because there was nothing left inside his bowels anymore.   
_ _ _

With no one to awaken him Yuuri slept till noon. First thing he did after waking up was check on Wolfram. No one answered his knock. Yuuri willfully entered the blond’s bedroom to find him sleeping in a heap of covers and lining. The king approached the bed and his eyes slid over the rolled up and creased up bedding. Wolfram was lying on his stomach, sprawled all over it, the covers mostly useless as his body was exposed to anyone wishing to feast their eyes. 

Yuuri stared at the mounds of the blond’s buttocks. Instantly, his mind was filled with sexual images on the same bed from his memory. The blond probably felt the heat of his scorching gaze and shifted uneasily, the muscles rippling under the smooth, pale skin. The king’s eyes set upon his wide, strong back. A wave of unmistakable desire washed down his spine and then concentrated in his lower body. It was pleasurable and he was elated to experience feelings like this towards Wolfram. He had been uncertain, still sounded and felt like he was lying to himself about Wolfram. He hadn’t been certain he would be able to fulfill Wolfram’s expectations as well as von Ashira was obviously able to. Then again, Yuuri wasn’t certain what exactly those expectations were. For now, it didn’t seem that Wolfram expected anything from him at all. He was mostly treated as a bodiless and sexless nuisance that was about to change his mind in a day or two. It annoyed Yuuri to no end, but Wolfram’s behavior was perfectly justified to his mind as well. He could only do his best. During the moments like this he was able to understand more of what he really felt for Wolfram and how much he wished for the blond to accept him.

Wolfram turned his head towards the king and hummed sleepily, “Mhmnh?”

“How are you feeling?”

“Nmhn…? Good. Mmn…sleep.”

The king watched the blond roll about in the bed until he buried himself deeper into the bedding cocoon and passed out cold again. Yuuri left the room silently and closed the door even quieter. A little apprehensively he headed for the bathroom on the same floor. It was unoccupied.

The rest of the household was in the dining room, having lunch. The king noted that the duke, Gwendal and Gunter didn’t look any worse for the wear. It seemed that they had experienced fewer side effects than Wolfram. It was no wonder either. As far as Yuuri remembered the blond had drunk two or three times more of the tea than any of them. It was very likely that it was the reason why he had passed out before the powder had even had the chance to work its hallucinogenic magic.

“Your Majesty,” Conrart spoke, “how are you feeling?”

“I’m perfectly fine. Thank you,” Yuuri said, rounding the table and taking his usual seat at the end of the table. He avoided looking at either Gunter or both Gwendal and von Ashira. “How many times do I have to tell you to call me ‘Yuuri’?”

Conrart smiled at him amiably.

“I hope you’ve slept well, Your Majesty,” Gunter said.

“Yes, yes. Perfectly well. Wolfram is still in bed, though.”

Von Ashira’s eyebrows rose in curiosity, but Yuuri didn’t notice that. Neither did he notice confusion on Gwendal’s nor Conrart’s face. He pulled the pot with the stew closer to himself.

“No wonder,” Gunter said. “He was eating those croissants like there was no tomorrow.”

With a spoon poised at his mouth, Yuuri raised his head to look at him. “What croissants?”

“The ones with the bad eggs.”

Yuuri’s eyes left Gunter’s face and concentrated on Cecilie’s face instead. She put a finger to her lips. “Right,” Yuuri said. “How much does any of you remember from yesterday?”

The men gave him confused looks. After further investigation Yuuri determined that none of them remembered anything past having snacks on the balcony. What stuck in their minds were their mandatory and unpleasant visits to the bathrooms.

“I would like to have a word with you after lunch,” Yuuri said softly so that only Cecilie could hear.

_ _ _

Cecilie von Spitzweg seated herself in front of Yuuri’s desk in his study. She found the solemnity on the young king’s face adorable. 

“I will outlaw any substances similar to what you’ve used yesterday,” Yuuri informed her.

Cecilie smiled at him. Then she realized that he was being serious and her smile vanished. “But love potions are…”

“Any kinds of substances meant to affect and manipulate one’s free will and mind will be made illegal,” Yuuri repeated. “I hope I’ve made myself clear. I’m still thinking about the repercussions for disobeying the law.”

Cecilie gave Shibuya a good look. When he spoke like this and was all business, the resemblance to Shinou was uncanny. 

“But, Your Majesty, love potions are… Well, it’s a part of our culture.”

Yuuri’s eyes flashed at her angrily. “Why don’t you make not drugging other people part of your culture?”

Cecilie gave him a look but stayed quiet. The tips of her ears reddened.

Yuuri thought for a moment. A fine, no matter how heavy, wasn’t going to stop rich people like Cecilie from abusing similar kinds of substances. “It should be punishable with jail,” he muttered under his breath.

“We don’t have jails, Your Majesty,” Cecilie informed him helpfully.

“Dungeon it is, then,” Yuuri decided.

Cecilie sighed regretfully.

“You need to tell the truth and apologize to everyone,” Yuuri told her seeing that she didn’t show even a tiny grain of regret.

“Mmm…. Maybe some time later.”

Yuuri glared at her in disbelief. “Today. And that’s an order. I won’t have them thinking that our cooks are as unprofessional that they cannot distinguish between good and bad eggs. That won’t do!”

_ _ _

Yuuri’s hand faltered before knocking. He leaned in closer to the door to listen. Peals of laughter could be heard from the inside. He could easily recognize Wolfram’s voice. There were also other voices, but he wasn’t certain about who they belonged to. Maybe his brothers’?

The joyous, relaxed atmosphere wafting from behind the door hurt Yuuri and made him jealous. He knew that as soon as he entered the room, the jovial spell would be broken, people falling silent, acting reserved around him. He hadn’t been aware of this earlier. Maybe he had just been blissfully ignorant or maybe it had become the norm after he had grown older. 

On the other hand, thoughts like these made Yuuri embarrassed. A part of him, that was probably Shinou, kept telling him that he was being a whiny and spoiled kid. Yuuri knew very well that his friends were loyal to him to a fault. They would do everything in their power to protect him, to defend his reign from any possible harm or outside influence. All of them wished only the best for him. They were his faithful friends and would become his family officially if he married Wolfram. Yuuri would love this particular outcome.

The king knocked and was let in by someone’s cheerful voice. Von Ashira was absent. Wolfram was only with his brothers. Yuuri was still unused seeing Wolfram interact with Conrart so cordially. He was glad for them both but also jealous since he wished his relationship with Wolfram would improve just as phenomenally.

Just as he had presumed, the room hushed as they saw him. Yuuri approached Wolfram’s bed. Wolfram still was in bed while Gwendal and Gunter, except for urgent bathroom breaks every two or three hours, were relatively fine. Wolfram hadn’t eaten anything since morning either.

The men around the blond’s bed straightened to pay respect to the king, but Yuuri waved them off dismissively as per usual. Wolfram nodded in greeting. Gwendal and Conrart met each other’s eyes meaningfully. Gwendal stood up again.

“With your permission, Your Majesty, I’ll go and make certain that our guests have everything they require.”

“I will help him, Your Majesty,” Conrart quipped awkwardly.

Yuuri nodded, and the two of them left. Yuuri took a chair and sat down next to Wolfram’s bed. His eyes settled on the aquarium. He was pleased with the way it had been developed. The fish seemed to be lively and content. Wolfram followed Yuuri’s gaze when it stayed there for longer.

“Since it’s still here, I presume you like it?” Yuuri asked tentatively.

“Yes, thank you.”

“I thought it would be very relaxing to watch them swim about,” Yuuri said, smiling. “I’m certain that it will help you pass the time more pleasurably.”

“Yes, it will,” Wolfram said even though, currently, the sight of floating fish made him sick and he would have it gladly removed from his bedroom. At least until he felt better.

“She promised not to use any potions anymore,” Yuuri said, leaning back into the chair.

“I’m surprised she’s listened to you.”

“She did,” Yuuri confirmed. “She’s also had her punishment by having to entertain the guests on her own.”

Wolfram rolled his eyes. “That’s hardly a punishment. I’m certain that she has already taken a fancy to one of the male guests and is having a blast.”

The king felt uncomfortable and wished Wolfram talked with more respect about his mother but the thing was that it was exactly how Wolfram had said it – he had noticed Cecilie showing exclusive attention to one of the visitors.

“What actually happened?” Wolfram wondered. “No one remembers anything. Mother told me that I had fallen asleep at the table, but nothing else. Do you remember anything?”

Yuuri opened his mouth then, after a short thought, closed it and shook his head. “No.”

“Liar.”

The king’s face reddened. “Some things are better left unsaid.”

Wolfram appeared to be both annoyed and curious but he didn’t question anymore.

“I can definitely see that you didn’t have much time to think about…it,” Yuuri said in a somewhat hesitant voice, “but maybe you have actually given some thought to…”

“No, I haven’t,” Wolfram denied. “I’d actually prefer to leave the castle as soon as possible.”

“Ah. I was afraid you’d say that.”

Wolfram shrugged.

Yuuri sighed in frustration. “I wish I knew how to seduce you.”

The blond gave Yuuri a surprised look. The king held his gaze, and Wolfram found himself blushing. The unexpected moments of Yuuri’s boldness kept throwing him off balance.

“I was yours and you tossed me away, Yuuri. I don’t intend for it to happen again.”

The king frowned. “You tend to only see one side of things. First of all, I never tossed you away. Secondly, I can say that I definitely know what I want from you.”

“And that is?”

“The same thing that you want from me.”

Wolfram pursed his lips. “Can you be less vague?”

“I think I’m being perfectly clear, aren’t I?”

The blond sighed. He probably was.

This was the first normal conversation that Yuuri had with Wolfram. There was hope. There was a mountain of hope.

“Oh, no, no, Yuuri. I’m leaving as soon as I can.”

Yuuri hated that people could easily read his face. “I do hope to change your mind.”

_ _ _

 

Conrart was in the stables, brushing his horse after a long ride in the park. It had been entertaining, he had raced with Alfred then two more guards joined in. Once they had raced to their hearts’ content one of them had invited him to his wedding. He wasn’t very familiar with the guard as he had recently been hired. That made the invitation feel even more pleasant. Times had certainly changed with King Shibuya’s reign. A few years ago, strangers, even worse, his fellow comrades looked at him with mistrust and apprehension due to his mixed blood.

Conrart smiled and patted the horse’s neck affectionately. There was a tingling sensation on his back. He kept stroking the horse’s neck pretending not to have noticed that he was being watched. His hand moved closer to the sword at his side.

As it was obvious that Conrart had felt his presence, Karela stepped out from behind the pillar. The movement behind him made Conrart turn around. At the sight of the familiar face his hand moved away from the sword handle.

“Afternoon,” Karela greeted, walking closer to him.

“Afternoon,” Conrart answered turning back to the horse and continuing to brush it. He wasn’t surprised to see Karela here. He had heard the rumors of him and von Ashira leaving in about a week, and Karela Ine wasn’t a man who would leave his business unfinished. Conrart had been waiting for his visit but hadn’t expected for him to act so quickly.

“I was wondering when you’d make your move…”

“So…you’ve been waiting for me?”

Conrart chuckled and patted the horse. “In a manner of speaking.”

While watching the older man’s back, Karela idly wondered if he would manage to flatten Conrart to one of the enclosure gates before Weller skewered him with the sword. Probably not. They didn’t have much time either since Yozak was definitely somewhere close – recently he had been following Conrart like a guard dog. Yozak obviously could presume his intentions.

Karela stepped closer, and Conrart turned around. He fidgeted with the brush in his hand. The man’s hazel, usually gentle eyes were alert and filled with hesitation. Karela couldn’t help grinning.

“Don’t you look just like a cornered hare?”

Conrart’s eyebrows rose. “Says the fox.”

Karela laughed.

Conrart took the horse by the reins and started leading it towards its enclosure. Karela followed them.

“Doesn’t he piss you off?” Karela wondered while closing the enclosure door and leaning over it to bar it on the outer side.

“He does,” Conrart agreed, letting go of the reins. He started removing them. He passed Karela to hang them onto a hook next to the enclosure gate.

“But you love him.”

The disarming statement made Conrart sigh. He felt the younger man’s arms wrap around his midsection and pull him backwards until he was leaning against Karela’s chest. Conrart’s eyes closed of their own when his nose caught a whiff of the captain’s aftershave mixed with his own musky scent permeated by the smell of sweat after the morning training routine. He inhaled breathily when the captain rubbed himself against the cleft of his ass. Karela’s hand slid south in-between his legs. He let out a pleased grunt when he found he was already half-mast. Conrart had a feeling that Karela had figured that he would need much more effort to seduce him.

“I wish I had met you before meeting Yozak,” Karela whispered into Conrart’s ear.

“No, you don’t,” Conrart denied. 

“I really do.”

Conrart decided to ignore his words. Karela was still rubbing himself against him, and Conrart swiveled his hips, invitingly pushing backwards against the captain.

“I didn’t think you were this easy…”

Conrart’s elbow caught him in the stomach, and Karela doubled over. Coughing and cursing, he wondered what the devil had pulled on his tongue. Conrart turned to him and glared.

“Wasn’t it you who has been hot on my trail for over a month?” he sneered.

“Yes,” Karela admitted easily, “just like a dog after a bitch in heat.”

Wordlessly, Conrart turned around and reached over the gate to unbolt it. Karela rolled his eyes.

“Wait a moment, will you?”

“I don’t need this,” Conrart spat angrily. He slapped at Karela’s hand, which had covered his to prevent him from opening the gate.

Ignoring his half-hearted struggles, Karela pulled him away from the gate.

“Seems like you can’t take any type of banter,” the captain chuckled, turning the older arm around to face him. He was aware that being a half-blood, Conrart could have easily resisted. That meant it was only Conrart’s pride talking. The hazel eyes were looking at him with mistrust, but there wasn’t enough time for further flirting. 

Karela leaned in and kissed the brunet. He could tell that Conrart was somewhat surprised. Meanwhile, Karela did what he had been wanting to do since the first day Yozak had introduced Conrart as his…fuckbuddy? Karela couldn’t remember which word Yozak had used or whether he had used any at all. He had only later realized that he had gotten himself involved into something cumbersome. It was mostly Yozak’s fault.

Conrart felt his back press against the enclosure’s wooden planks. He didn’t mind. He hadn’t expected Karela to be able to kiss like this. In the heat of the moment, they had kissed a few times before but it had never been like this. Or maybe he had just thought it wasn’t like this. It seemed as if Karela wanted to swallow him whole. It was…it was sometimes how Yozak kissed him when he was drunk. Conrart moved his head away, breaking the kiss and looked at the captain. The bastard was grinning. Indeed, he was purposely mimicking Yozak. 

Karela chuckled at the look on Conrart’s face. Deep down, Karela wasn’t amused at all. When he had planned this - for them to be alone - he had imagined that they would share a lustful and shameless tumble in hay to make up for all of those unfairly forbidden moments of intimacy. This was, however, turning out wrong. He didn’t know why he felt so bitter and kept trying to humiliate Conrart.

“Let go of me.”

Karela took a firmer hold on his waist. “No.”

“What do you actually want from me?” Conrart asked. “For me to disappear? It won’t happen. I won’t leave him.”

“No matter what?”

“No matter what,” Conrart confirmed. His voice was firm, but his face was blushing lightly; he wasn’t used to straightforward conversations like this.

“What if he is the one to leave you?”

The attempted provocation made absolutely no impact on Conrart except for making him chuckle. “He won’t.”

“And that’s what’s pissing me off,” Karela said. “In spite of everything, you do realize that he’s treating you no more than a convenient fuck? Why do you tolerate it?”

Conrart’s face colored red in anger and embarrassment. “Why do I have to talk about this with you?”

Karela shrugged. “Well… do you talk about this to anyone else?”

The older man’s lips pressed into a tiny dash. He didn’t. He had also resisted Gwendal’s attempts to disentangle his hazy relationship. 

“He’s afraid to get attached.”

“That’s kind of obvious,” Karela said. “I don’t understand his reasoning, though. He’s obviously heels over head for you. He watches every step you make and yet… I don’t get it.”

“Years ago, he lost his lover. He was killed in a battle. He is afraid to experience the same pain and horror.”

“As simple as that, huh?” Karela said, surprised at how easily Conrart had said it.

“It only sounds simple. I was there, I saw it all. I know the pain he has gone through. There is nothing simple in that.”

Karela stared at the brunet’s face while trying to imagine how years after years he tolerated Yozak’s cowardly and shameful behavior while always hoping for the red-head to open up to him and accept him.

“You must hate that dead lover of his.”

Conrart shrugged. He did, most of the time.

“Still, he never wants to share you with others, which is a good sign, I suppose?”

Conrart’s eyebrows rose mockingly. “A little bit more and I will start thinking that you’re genuinely concerned about me.”

“I actually am,” Karela confirmed with a chuckle. “I do like you. More than I like Yozak anyway.”

“Already got bored with him and now using me to get back at him?”

Karela let out a hearty laugh. “Something like that. I do like you, though. And I know that you want me too.”

Conrart stared at him for a few seconds then decided that it was no use denying. “Yes.”

“Do you think he will care?” Karela asked, leaning in to cover the older man’s lips with his own again.

Conrart answered the kiss. “You know that he will,” he breathed into Karela’s mouth.

TBC


	51. Part 51

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Kyou Kara Maou! – It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I’m not making any money from writing it.  
> Warnings: yaoi (male x male), violence, swearing, angst, drama. Wolfram-centric, out of character, original character.  
> Summary: With Yuuri’s upcoming birthday, Wolfram makes his decision. Where will it lead him and what is to become of them? Should eventually be Yuuri x Wolfram.  
> A/N 1: Yuuri – 18 years old. Wolfram – 21. Eldara – 32. Halea – 20. Athara – 18. Gwendal – 54.  
> A/N 2: Greta doesn’t exist.  
> A/N 3: European/American/Japanese standards all at once depending on the plot requirements.  
> A/N 4: A tendency to ignore the anime/manga and supplement the story with my own imagined facts.  
> A/N 5: Season III is not taken into consideration, except for the fact that Wolfram’s uncle exists.  
> A/N 6: The umlaut in Gunter’s name is a bother.

**Bloom**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Anonymously Awesome

Part 51

Other than the sounds of horses whinnying and stamping, the stable was silent. Karela and Conrart kept their antics as quiet as possible. They both knew that they didn’t have much time before someone entered the stable. The occasional, close-straying soul wasn’t much of a problem since any sensible person would make themselves scarce at the suggestive sounds of rustling straw and muffled moaning. But not Yozak. Yozak would definitely investigate the source of the noise.

“I hope you can use his jealousy to your advantage,” Karela whispered into Conrart’s ear. He noticed the brunet seize up pleasurably and couldn’t help biting on his earlobe to elicit a similar reaction.

The older man didn’t answer disputing that. It was simply going to end in a routine row. It wasn’t going to make any difference. He might as well fuck Karela to his heart’s content; the captain was too naïve. And Karela didn’t care about any of this. 

The annoying, useless conversation with Karela had put Conrart off. The lustful haze caused by Karela’s proximity had dissipated and he found himself wondering what he was doing in this man’s arms. The captain was going to leave in a few days and forget all of this like a bad dream while he and Yozak would have to piece their dysfunctional relationship back together all over again. Until the next time.

Karela quickly discovered that Conrart was limp. Another wave of irritation rose within him. He hadn’t expected this. This was supposed to have been an exciting tryst. Why did Conrart have to be so difficult?

Conrart leaned against the wall while Karela’s deft fingers tried to work some life into his penis. He closed his eyes and exhaled loudly, willing his shoulders to relax. Karela’s mouth pressed against his again, and Conrart put his own strength into the kiss. His tongue rubbed against Conrart’s suggestively while his hand stroked him. The brunet felt his mind start to cloud. 

Karela’s hands pushed Conrart’s trousers and underwear down and out of his way. Finally, Conrart’s expressions started to become similar to those he had witnessed when he had been intimate with Yozak. The captain shrugged his jacket off and tossed it onto the mound of hay next to the horse. In a few hurried moves he arranged it into a make-shift bed. He shoved his own trousers down to his knees and flopped onto his jacket, motioning for Conrart to join him. 

The captain looked funny while sitting on his jacket with his trousers half-way down and his large cock up. Conrart had always found male genitals to be somewhat funny. The mix of their vulnerability and firmness aroused him but also gave him a sense of hilarity. It usually lasted only up to the point of the said genitals being pushed into him.

Karela watched the brunet kicking his boots off and getting rid of his trousers and underwear completely. Conrart seemed to be eager, which pleased the captain. 

“Come here,” Karela grunted catching the older man’s hand and pulling him on top of himself.

Conrart huffed, landing face-first onto Karela’s chest. While he was rubbing his sore nose, the captain rolled them over, getting in between the older man’s thighs and trapping him underneath. Their cocks rubbed against each other pleasurably and, to prolong the feeling, Karela wrapped his hand around them. He stroked, squeezing lightly. Conrart sighed in satisfaction and shuffled around, getting more comfortable on the jacket. Inhaling a lungful of air then exhaling, he let himself relax while Karela’s hand worked on them.

Several moments later Karela started digging around the pockets of his dangling trousers. The small bottle of lube was where he had put it – in the right pocket. He coated his fingers and, after some struggle, managed to cork the bottle with one hand. Conrart pulled his legs up and spread them wider.

Karela grinned at him. “So obedient.”

Conrart rolled his eyes. He tensed as the captain’s fingers pressed against his ass. Trying to relax his muscles as much as possible, he breathed in and out a few times. The digits slipped in almost effortlessly. Conrart lay still while they were pushing in and out of him, spreading the lubricant, getting him accustomed to the stretch.

That was how Yozak caught them – Karela with his fingers up Conrart’s ass. 

Over the bolted gate, Yozak’s eyes scanned the two men’s entangled bodies. Conrart’s eyes met his but, instead of shock and shame, Yozak saw only a mild surprise in them. Karela turned his head to check what had caught Conrart’s interest and didn’t seem to be embarrassed either. He was obviously annoyed by the disturbance. He shoved his fingers up Conrart’s ass again, making the surprised brunet blink at Yozak again. That was the last straw.

“I said he’s off limits!” Yozak hissed, unbolting the gate. He lunged forward through the gate and grabbed Karela by the back of his collar, peeling him off Conrart in one firm tug.

The shirt strained, but the fabric held. Karela whirled around, brushing the offending hand off. “He didn’t seem to mind,” he snorted.

Yozak glared at him then was distracted by Conrart stumbling to his feet, his cock bobbing up and down. The sight nearly made the red-head growl in anger.

“I really didn’t,” Conrart confirmed while staring into Yozak’s eyes. The disbelief and pain in them made Conrart feel both anger and regret.

Yozak took both of the half-naked men in again. He shoved Karela out of his way. “I know what you’re doing!” he hissed, pushing against Conrart’s chest. “It’s not going to work!”

Conrart shoved back at him. “Oh really? Then why don’t you just leave and let us finish?”

Karela nearly laughed at the look on Yozak’s face. He had not expected that; Conrart had clearly always been the one to apologize for everything.

“Fine,” Yozak said suddenly. “Fine,” he repeated, walking backwards. He nearly tripped over a clump of straw. “That is exactly what I’ll do.” He pushed the gate wide open. “You can just fuck each other to your hearts’ content.”

“It’s not like I need your permission,” Conrart spat.

Yozak slammed the gate shut and walked off furiously. 

Karela turned to look at Conrart. “Now you’ve done it.”

Conrart shook his head angrily.

“Really, once you get fed up with him, come to Raizgad.”

Conrart gave him a look. “I hear von Ashira is looking for a bride for you.”

Karela chuckled. “That doesn’t mean I can’t have a casual fling on the side.”

“I’m not interested in that.”

“But you were just now.”

“Has anybody told you that you talk too much?” Conrart couldn’t help biting. “A complete and utter turn off.”

Karela laughed. “Indeed.” He winked at Conrart and lowered his eyes to the older man’s crotch. “I know what would shut me up, though.”

“Oh, piss off. Never again.”  
_ _ _

The plans to build a dock at Lesa’s port, not to mention the contract with a shipwright in Madesa were serious matters. Yuuri had read through them carefully then sought out Gwendal’s opinion on the problem. Summoned to the king’s study, Gwendal had shared his insight and now was waiting for the king to finish inspecting the documents for the second time. From the armchair where he was seated comfortably, he kept glancing at the king. Shibuya seemed to have a hard time concentrating on the contracts: he kept looking out of the window. Gwendal knew who was there. Just before he had been summoned, he had been watching them as well.

Von Voltaire followed the king’s gaze outside the window. Wolfram and von Ashira were sitting on a bench near the entrance to the Royal Garden. They could have easily gone farther into the garden where the sprouting bushes would have hidden them from everyone’s eyes. That had obviously not been von Ashira’s plan. He clearly wanted to be in plain sight. If anyone asked him, he would obviously answer that it was because Wolfram had difficulties walking and there was no need for him to overexert himself. Gwendal knew better, though. He found it annoyingly amusing that von Ashira was still playing his games. It did work, though. Shibuya hadn’t managed to get past the first page of the contract. He kept returning to the same paragraph.

“We will still need more ships to expand our navy there, so why don’t we order a few ships at Hadur as well?” Yuuri suggested suddenly. He looked at Gwendal. “That way, construction would go faster and we would be able to compare the quality of the ships while staying with the superior shipwright.”

Von Voltaire inclined his head, agreeing. “Yes, this is a good idea. The thing is, however, that Madesa already has a better reputation of building superior ships than Hadur. The contract has been composed with that in mind.”

“Oh. I see.” With a bored sigh, Yuuri pushed the documents aside. “When is von Ashira leaving?”

Gwendal glanced at the younger man. Shibuya was much more honest with his feelings than him. Von Voltaire shrugged. “In five days or… When he gets bored?” he ventured a guess. The exact date given by von Ashira didn’t mean much. Gwendal was certain that, under certain circumstances, the duke’s stay could be prolonged indefinitely.

“Any chance of that happening in a day or two?”

“I don’t think so.”

“I don’t like them being together,” Yuuri muttered, staring through the window. 

Gwendal wondered if the king had intended to utter that sentence aloud. “Well, as long as they intentionally choose a visible place to interact at, there’s nothing to worry about.”

Yuuri pursed his lips in discontent. “I think this has been done with a rather different intention.”

“I agree.”

The king turned his head to give von Voltaire a look. With a sigh, Gwendal lowered his eyes. He felt guilty for having deliberately ignored and belittled the king’s side of the story for so long. It was not that he didn’t want to care, it was that he had been too angry with the king to act differently. He was still unsure about the king’s intentions, but he knew that Shibuya was honest to a fault. It was time to end this fruitless animosity.

Feeling uncomfortable, von Voltaire tapped his fingers on the desk. “I’m not certain that I’m the right person, but if you need someone to talk to…” Already, before the words had left his mouth, Gwendal realized that he was being a hypocrite. It was actually him who wanted someone to talk to.

The king blinked slowly while his eyes were searching von Voltaire’s face. He seemed neither surprised nor offended as he recognized the suggestion for what it was – a proposal of truce. He gave the older man a tired smile.

“Everything’s so simple yet so complicated at the same time.”

Gwendal nodded, agreeing. He couldn’t have said it better.

“I want…” Yuuri trailed off, thinking. “I want him to trust me.”

Gwendal leaned back in his chair. “Have you actually done anything to earn his trust?”

Yuuri shot him an edgy look, but von Voltaire wasn’t mocking him. It was really a question that he had to answer to himself.

The king shook his head. “No, I obviously haven’t. And lately… I think the more I push, the more convinced he gets that I’m not serious, that this is just some kind of persistent whim that will pass in a day or two. He isn’t even taking me seriously. It’s… It’s not easy. I don’t know what I should do.”

Von Voltaire watched the younger male for a couple of moments. It was an awkward situation that he had brought upon himself. “To be honest, I think you want everything to happen too fast and too soon,” he said. “It’s natural that he feels reluctant.”

“I know that perfectly well, but I’m afraid that he will run as soon as I give him space.”

Gwendal couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him. He found that he was able to see some similarities between Yuuri and von Ashira. Was he in a similar situation as Wolfram? Gwendal laughed again. “But there’s no guarantee that he won’t run later,” he said, “when he finally has enough time and space to think. Or do you think you’re capable enough to keep him preoccupied for years?”

Yuuri’s face reddened slightly. “No, of course, not. But if I let go of him now, he will never even consider the idea of staying with me. He will just run away. That’s why I want to keep pushing until he gives in.” Yuuri reddened even more at the incredulous look on Gwendal’s face. Yuuri was no less amazed by his own approach to the matter. He could hardly believe with how much resolve he was going after Wolfram. After a man. He felt full of excitement, the amount often making him feel giddy. He liked these changes more and more. It somehow… it somehow made him feel powerful.

“And is this really not a whim that will pass in a day or two?” Gwendal asked him.

Yuuri shook his head slowly. “I… No. It’s not just curiosity if that’s what you mean. Besides, we have known each other for a long time. It’s…different. I…I want to make him mine.” Yuuri chuckled at the look on von Voltaire’s face. “Yes, I’m surprised as well. I would have never thought I’d ever say that.”

The older man shrugged. “Well, if that’s how you feel… But what does he want? Does he feel anything for you other than nostalgia?”

Yuuri sighed; Gwendal certainly knew where to hit his confidence. “I’m sure that he does.”

“Did he say that?”

“No, he didn’t. He actually denied it.”

Gwendal’s eyebrows rose. “Why are you so certain, then?”

The king gave him a self-assured smile. “I just am. I think I know him well enough to be certain of that.”

“So basically, what you think is that it’s only a matter of determination and time?”

Yuuri was aware of irritation in von Voltaire’s voice. It was the same kind that he was always able to detect in Wolfram’s. For some reason, it seemed that his steadfastness annoyed them both. He didn’t understand why. “For the most part, yes,” Yuuri confirmed. “I have to somehow make him realize that he can trust me. Nothing of the sort that happened back then will ever happen again.”

“Are you certain?”

Yuuri sighed. “How can one be absolutely certain of anything? We are talking about feelings here. They keep changing and evolving all the time. I can only do my best, right?”

“Indeed.”

A few moments later, Yuuri pushed his chair away from his desk. “Let’s go join them.”

Gwendal looked uncertain. “Err…”

“You have probably got many things to discuss with von Ashira just like I have with Wolfram,” Yuuri said, standing up. “Five days is a short time. Then again, it can be incredibly long for some.” He wasn’t looking at Gwendal but he didn’t even need to. He could imagine the older man’s somewhat confused and embarrassed face. Yuuri walked over to the door. It was best to just leave the “True Love potion” incident alone. He turned to look at Gwendal. “Tell me, has he come here with an intention to pursue you?”

For a moment, von Voltaire thought about not answering or answering something vague but then changed his mind. He nodded. “Yes, it would seem so.”

“Were you aware of that?”

Gwendal gave the king an insulted look. “Of course not!” It wasn’t entirely true, though. He had had a vague feeling that von Ashira was being suspiciously too flirty with him in his letters but he had mostly put it down to his infamous quirks. Mostly. 

Yuuri turned away. He opened the door. “I should flog him, but since everything has turned out for the better… No, I shall flog him after all.” It was too quiet behind him, and Yuuri turned to look at von Voltaire. “I’m joking.”

“Are you? Doesn’t feel like it.”

Yuuri grinned at him. “Would you like me to flog him, though?”

Gwendal didn’t grin back. “No. He might enjoy it.”

_ _ _

Sprawled on the bench, Wolfram looked like a cat sunning itself. Eldara leaned against the back of the bench as well and looked up at the blue sky. He felt his scalp warming up under the sun. He wished he could be just as relaxed as the blond. There were only five days left until his departure, and he felt regretful.

“So, what did you want to discuss?” Wolfram asked him. “Or did you invite me here just to piss Gwendal off?” he wondered while absently pointing at the castle windows.

Eldara chuckled. “I should have married you after all.”

Wolfram didn’t find it funny. “Don’t joke about it.”

“I’m leaving in five days.”

“Yes, I know that. To tell you the truth, I didn’t expect you to leave so soon.”

“It’s nearly been a month.”

“So it has. But you know what I mean.”

Eldara reclined his head again to stare at the white clouds. “There isn’t much point in me staying here any longer,” he muttered.

“Hmm? Why? The sex wasn’t good? Or have you lost interest after getting into his pants?”

“Cynical as always.”

“So which is it?”

“Neither.”

“Oh?” Wolfram looked at the older man. The duke’s dark-lavender hair nearly shone pink under the intense sunlight. His face was tense, regretful. Wolfram let out a bitter laugh. “It seems that both of us are running away for the same reason.”

Eldara kept staring at the sky, his eyes unfocused. Wolfram was right and it annoyed him. 

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Wolfram muttered. “It was never a possibility. You live in two different countries separated by hundreds and hundreds of kilometers of land and sea. You’re better off considering it as no more than a passed challenge.”

“Trying to rationalize it doesn’t make it any easier, you know.”

“Well. Maybe someday you’ll retire, leave it all to your offspring and come here.”

“That’s bullshit. By that time I’ll be an old codger and he’ll still look like he is in his forties. I won’t even be able to get it up anymore.”

“Then you’d better hurry up and start making those kids. The sooner you start, the sooner they grow up and take over.”

“I’d rather marry you. Less hassle.”

“Stop spouting nonsense. I’m not keen on being a replacement.”

“Hmm… And yet you almost went through with it.”

“I was being stubborn and stupid.”

“Indeed.”

Eldara’s face sobered up. “If you reject him now, you’ll be left wondering how it could have been for the rest of your life.”

Wolfram sighed. “Yes, I keep thinking about that. Arrgh!”

Startled, the duke turned to him.

“It’s just so annoying! It was so simple with you!”

“Was it?”

“Well, no. But…”

“Scary, isn’t it? Going in blindly… If you think too long, someone might steal him.”

“I wish them luck.”

Eldara chuckled. “Would solve all problems, wouldn’t it?” He patted Wolfram’s hand. “Maybe later, when you feel less insecure. Until that happens, however, you’ll have to keep fueling his interest in yourself.”

Wolfram gave him a disbelieving look. “You mean ‘leading him on’?”

The duke winked at him. “Not if you give in in the end.”

“You are an asshole.”

Eldara threw his hands apart with a shrug.

“Is this what you’re planning to do with Gwendal?”

“Yep. I’m certain, however, that you won’t forget me either.”

“What an asshole,” Wolfram repeated. “Why don’t you just found a harem for yourself?”

“That’s boring. Where’s the challenge in that?’

The blond rolled his eyes.

“I’ve left a little gift for you in your room,” Eldara said, giving him a sly smile. He leaned closer to the blond. “Just in case your nights have become lonely.” The duke leaned in even closer and, uncertain how to react to his close proximity, the blond squirmed. They hadn’t even kissed since the termination of their engagement, and Wolfram felt confused about this unexpected act of intimacy.

“Umm? What is it?” Then, over the duke’s shoulder, he noticed two figures walking towards them. “Really?” he muttered. “When will you stop that?”

“Probably never.”

Eldara’s breath caressed his ear, and Wolfram shivered. “I ought to hate you,” he muttered.

“It would make sense,” Eldara agreed, leaning away finally.

“I do know that somewhere in your twisted mind you do like me a lot, though.”

Eldara chuckled. “Indeed. Well, isn’t this just sweet?” He turned his head at the sound of the footsteps and pretended to have become aware of the two men only now. He stood up and bowed. “Your Majesty. Your Highness. How wonderful of you to join us!”  
_ _ _

Wolfram noticed the easel as soon as he had stepped into his room. The average-sized easel with canvas resting on it stood almost in the middle of it, in a well-lit place in front of the windows. Next to the easel there was a box with tubes of paint. A handful of brushes and a painter’s palette were also there, on a small stool.

The blond walked over to the goods and inspected them. It had been a long time since he held a paintbrush. He suddenly felt very nostalgic. Painting was a hobby that he used to enjoy but had abandoned when he left for Lesa Fort. That was nearly a year ago.

The tools and the easel were brand new. Yuuri had outdone himself this time. This was getting repetitive. Sighing, Wolfram picked up one of the brushes again and threaded his fingers through the soft hairs. He already wanted to try it out.

When Yuuri entered Wolfram’s room, he found the blond sitting on a stool in front of the easel, holding a brush. He suddenly realized that he had missed the sight of Wolfram painting.

“Already painting?” Yuuri asked, smiling. He walked over to the easel and took a look at the canvas. It was still empty. 

Wolfram shook his head. He drew a few more tentative lines and circles in the air. “It’s been such a long time that I still need to get my hand used to the brush again.”

“Oh, I see.”

Yuuri glanced at the window then looked around the room. “What do you want to paint?”

Wolfram shrugged.

“How about me?” Yuuri asked, grinning at his own impudence.

“I have already painted you before.”

“Yes, but that was cubism, wasn’t it? Now you can draw a more realistic version of me.”

Wolfram gave him a look. The king didn’t seem to be either shy or embarrassed. He was giving Wolfram a flirty look. He certainly seemed to be more mischievous than embarrassed. 

“I will have to get some turpentine first,” Wolfram said. “It should be somewhere in the storage room.”

“Do you want me to get it for you?”

“No, you won’t find it in that mess.”

Yuuri watched him take up the crutch and make his way to the door. Wolfram had become accustomed to using one crutch and was moving around quickly. He was going to get well in no time. And then leave. Frowning, Yuuri watched the door close behind the blond’s back.

Left alone, Yuuri looked around the room. The fish tank was still there, near the bed, the fish swimming merrily inside it. Yuuri walked over to one of the chairs next to the wall and took it. He pushed it over in front of the easel and sat down. He shifted around, crossed his legs then uncrossed them. It took him a few moments to get ready to pose in all his splendor.

A couple of minutes passed, but Wolfram hadn’t returned. Idly, the king’s eyes swept the room again. Almost naturally, they returned to the blond’s bed, where he caught sight of a leather bag protruding from behind of one of the pillows. It seemed as if it was partly hidden. Yuuri stared at it for a few moments then, curiosity getting the better of him, left the chair and approached the bed. Rounding it, he stopped right in front of the bag, but now wasn’t able to see anything due to the pillow covering it. He lifted the pillow. He couldn’t tell anything by the bag’s shape. It was, however, a very expensive-looking bag. Well-sown, sturdy, decorated with a few silk tassels and several gold clasps.

The king faltered a little before untying the bag but then continued to go through with it in quick, assured tugs at its tie. His eyes widened at what was inside.

A wooden cock. A smooth, shiny wooden cock with two wooden balls.

Amazed, Yuuri stared at the piece. There was also a slip of scribbled paper next to it and a jar with some sort of liquid inside. He took the small note and read it: 

_“I hope this will jolly up your lonely nights._   
_Thank you for the pleasant memories._  
 _E.”_

Yuuri stared at the round, black letters that were forming neat lines. He felt foolish. Embarrassed and foolish. While he was trying to woo Wolfram with an easel, von Ashira was doing that with a wooden cock. Which one did Wolfram prefer?

Hurriedly, Yuuri shoved the note back into the bag and tied it again. He fluffed up the pillow and covered the bag. He was just in time to settle back into his chair as the door opened and Wolfram stepped in. The blond walked over to the easel, sat down on the stool and started mixing the colors on the palette. He was going to need some green and quite a lot of gray.

“It will take at least a week. Maybe even a few,” Wolfram warned after a few minutes of silence.

Yuuri nodded. “That’s alright. Actually the longer, the better.” 

Wolfram let out a soft sigh. Yuuri really didn’t seem to realize that, first, he would normally need to draw a sketch of him. So ignorant and naïve.

Something flopped down behind them, and they turned around to see that one of the pillows had fallen over to reveal the bag behind it.

“Snooped around, didn’t you?” Wolfram said reproachfully, turning his head back to Yuuri.

“Ugh. Sorry. I don’t know why I…”

The blond continued to mix the colors. “It’s fine. So what do you think about it?”

Yuuri gave him a look. The expression on Wolfram’s face wasn’t exactly mocking, it was somewhat regretful as well.

“That I would like to see you use it.”

Wolfram’s eyebrows rose. He looked up at Yuuri. The king found the look on his face hilarious. Two could play this game.

“Mmm? What about using it yourself?”

Yuuri grinned. “On you?”

Wolfram grunted. “No, you idiot. On yourself.”

“Thanks, but no, thanks.”

Wolfram chuckled. “You never know. You might just like it.”

“I highly doubt that.” Yuuri faltered. “Well…maybe. If you tried using it on me.”

“Just drop it.”

“Fine.”

For a few moments, the king sat quietly, watching Wolfram working on the colors. “So which one do you prefer,” he asked finally, “the cock or the easel?”

“Just drop it, Yuuri,” Wolfram repeated. He couldn’t help chuckling, though.

“It pisses me off.”

Wolfram rolled his eyes. Yuuri was jealous needlessly, but it felt pleasant.

“So which one?”

“Oh for gods’ sakes,” Wolfram muttered. “How about both? I will use the easel during the day and the cock at night?”

The king frowned at him. “That pisses me off even more.”

TBC


	52. Part 52

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Kyou Kara Maou! – It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I’m not making any money from writing it.  
> Warnings: yaoi (male x male), violence, swearing, angst, drama. Wolfram-centric, out of character, original character.  
> Summary: With Yuuri’s upcoming birthday, Wolfram makes his decision. Where will it lead him and what is to become of them? Should eventually be Yuuri x Wolfram.  
> A/N 1: Yuuri – 18 years old. Wolfram – 21. Eldara – 32. Halea – 20. Athara – 18. Gwendal – 54.  
> A/N 2: Greta doesn’t exist.  
> A/N 3: European/American/Japanese standards all at once depending on the plot requirements.  
> A/N 4: A tendency to ignore the anime/manga and supplement the story with my own imagined facts.   
> A/N 5: Season III is not taken into consideration, except for the fact that Wolfram’s uncle exists.  
> A/N 6: The umlaut in Gunter’s name is a bother.

**Bloom**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Anonymously Awesome

Part 52

Wolfram watched Yuuri’s profile while thinking about what exactly and how he should draw. The king was sitting in the chair opposite the easel, staring at him with hopeful, expectant eyes. Shibuya didn’t look the tiniest bit regal. If not for his black hair and black jacket one would think that he was just a common young man. 

Wasn’t that actually the point?

Wolfram sighed.

Mistaking the sigh for disapproval, Yuuri combed his hair with his fingers then turned this and that way on the chair, trying out a few different poses. 

“How should I sit?”

The blond gave him a look and let out another frustrated sigh. “Turn my way,” he instructed. “No. A bit more to the side. Right. How about you take your jacket off? Or is it too cool in the room?”

The idea seemed to please the king. He started unbuttoning his black jacket. A little self-conscious of Wolfram’s eyes on him, Yuuri shrugged it off and draped it over the back of his chair. He turned back to Wolfram and smiled awkwardly.

“Lean against the backrest. Yes, like that. Straighten your shoulders. Put your hands on your lap. No, the right one on the armrest. Yes, like that. Chin up. No, don’t cross your legs. Good. Chin up.”

Yuuri suddenly acquired a secret, and very questionable, desire that Wolfram would continue with his instructions until he was hard and naked. That would be incredibly embarrassing but also very exciting. When nothing of the sort happened, Yuuri even felt somewhat disappointed.

Oblivious to the king’s over-active imagination, Wolfram was making the first dabs and brushstrokes. His hand felt heavy on the canvas; awkward and scratchy. Despite everything, the usual sense of satisfaction and fulfillment started overtaking the blond. The dabs and brushes started organizing themselves into clusters of recognizable shapes.

Silently, Yuuri watched him work. He was aware that this time it felt completely different to how it had years ago. Back then he couldn’t wait for Wolfram to finish with his experimenting, now he wished for the amazingly green eyes to linger on him longer. Wolfram was probably aware of this as he soon stopped looking at him almost entirely.

“Are you drawing me from memory?” Yuuri wondered. 

Wolfram’s striking eyes set on him with a somewhat amused look in them. “Yes, mostly.”

Yuuri motioned at the painting. “Can I…?”

“No. Not until I finish.”

Yuuri pouted slightly but stayed in his chair.

Wolfram kept painting and it was quiet in the room with neither him nor Yuuri speaking. The king watched von Bielefeld curiously, wondering whether he was really in love with him. He certainly felt like he was, but he didn’t know anything about love.

Did it even matter, though?

The king’s stare felt heavy and it unnerved Wolfram. “You can’t buy my affection with gifts,” he muttered.

“Can’t I? They do please you though, don’t they?”

The king was certain of this, and it annoyed Wolfram that he was right. “They do, yes,” he admitted. “But your attitude doesn’t. So stop it, please.”

Yuuri hummed under his breath. “Stop what? The attitude or the gifts?” he asked.

“Both. Stop them.”

The king let out another hum without giving either confirmation or refusal. Von Bielefeld couldn’t decide whether he felt more annoyed or pleased. He still couldn’t get used to Yuuri’s assertiveness. He had never expected that Yuuri could be so firm and insistent concerning his romantic interests. Wolfram, however, knew that Yuuri wouldn’t act so recklessly and self-assuredly if he weren’t certain that his feelings were, at least on some level, reciprocated. Yuuri was certain that there was nothing to lose, all that mattered was time. He was probably right too. This annoyed Wolfram.

“You’ve always taken me for granted,” he said. There was no anger in his voice just resignation. “Even now.”

Yuuri gave him a searching look. “It’s… I do know that you like me, but… I can only hope to redeem myself and make you think that it’s worth a second chance. I want you to trust me. It’s… I’m not as brave as I’m trying to appear. But I… I can only push now. If I don’t, you won’t even consider me, right?”

Wolfram didn’t know what to answer as, again, the king was right. 

“I will probably leave in a few weeks.”

“The hell you will,” Yuuri said stubbornly, making Wolfram laugh.

“Oh, I’m definitely going to.”

“We’ll see.”

“You can’t stop me, Yuuri.”

“Don’t challenge me, Wolfram,” the king warned him seriously.

Wolfram gave him a look. “But it’s you who are challenging me.”

Yuuri chuckled. “Yeah, true.”

Wolfram was still drawing almost without looking at him. It was disappointing as the king had expected to receive much more attention. Wolfram either had his face set in his memory or was drawing triangles and cubes again, which was fine since the blond seemed to be very inspired, the brush not ceasing to move for more than a second.

When the smell of the turpentine became too sharp, Wolfram went to open a window.

“Can I take a look?” Yuuri asked again.

“No, it’s not finished.”

Wolfram returned to the easel and took up the brush again. The light evening breeze ruffled the curtains, passed them and flew over both of their heads then farther into the room to play with the slightly wilted bouquet on the table.

Wolfram painted for another twenty minutes then announced a break until tomorrow. Yuuri repeated his wish to see the painting again, but it was declined. Nonetheless, he caught a glimpse of it while Wolfram was cleaning up his workplace. 

It was a splendid, albeit unfinished, landscape with himself in the foreground.

“Is this how you see me?” Yuuri asked while pointing at his body in the painting. It was sprouting a donkey’s head.

From where he was arranging the brushes, Wolfram spared the painting a look. “Yep.”

“With a donkey’s head? Why?” Yuuri wondered.

“Because you’re stupidly stubborn.”

“The same can be said about you. Besides, it’s treason to talk like that about your king.”

“Then put me in the dungeon.”

Yuuri took another look at the unfinished painting. It was promising. “I will hang it in my study once it’s done.”

“You can’t. Your reputation will suffer if it’s seen by other nobility.”

“In my bedroom, then,” Yuuri promised.

Wolfram rolled his eyes. Yuuri’s reaction was no fun. “We can just start on another one,” he proposed.

“Why? I like this one – it’s funny.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“Huh? Why?”

“Never mind.”

Yuuri watched the blond cleaning and arranging his brushes to dry. It took him several minutes to clear up.

“Shall we go have dinner?” he asked, standing up, leaning on the crutch.

“Yes, but… Wolfram, you…”

The king suddenly moved forward, and, surprised, Wolfram stepped back. He stumbled and nearly fell, but Yuuri grabbed his upper arm to steady him. The blond winced in pain when his weight fell on his injured leg. Yuuri tried to steady the blond by pulling him forward, and Wolfram ended up in his embrace. The blond shifted uncomfortably, pushing himself away from Yuuri, trying to regain his balance.

Even though he sensed Wolfram’s discomfort, Yuuri didn’t let go. Moments like this made him wonder which one of them acted more virginally. With an inward sigh, he lowered his hand to Wolfram’s waist to still him.

“Wolfram.”

The amazingly green eyes concentrated on the king’s face with caution, waiting.

Yuuri’s head leaned forward, the green eyes now reflecting alarm. Yuuri’s lips stopped just a fraction from Wolfram’s. “You’ve got green paint on your forehead,” he whispered.

The blond stared at him. “You asshole,” he said a few moments later.

The king chuckled, leaning away. “What? Disappointed?”

“Let go of me!” Wolfram demanded, pushing himself away from Yuuri. He nearly fell over again but smacked at Yuuri’s hands when he tried to steady him.

“Don’t be such a kid.”

Wolfram’s eyes exploded into a nova. “How am I a kid? It’s you who…”

Yuuri nodded in a demonstrative way. “Yes? Me who…?” he encouraged when the blond fell silent.

“You who… Oh, piss off!” Wolfram spat angrily. 

He turned around and stomped along towards the nightstand at the bed to look for a clean handkerchief in one of the drawers. Yuuri watched him sit down on the bed for convenience while he ransacked the drawers. The bag with the wooden cock was just an arm’s reach away from the blond. Yuuri realized that, despite all common sense, it annoyed him.

“Wolfram?”

“What do you want now?” the blond grunted without lifting his eyes from the drawer; he was going through the last of them and, unless some handkerchiefs had gotten lost amongst his underwear and socks, it seemed that there were none.

“Do you like him?”

“Who? Eldara? Yes, I do. I told you that before.”

“He’s sleeping with your brother.”

“Which one?”

Yuuri glared at him. “You know perfectly well which one.”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t get it. Isn’t it…? I don’t know…unnatural?”

“What is?”

Yuuri threw his hands apart. “Him sleeping with your brother!”

“Rather, I think you mean that it is more unnatural that it is Gwendal who is sleeping with him.”

“That too,” Yuuri agreed. “That’s just plain weird!”

“Is it?”

“Yes! Isn’t it… I don’t know…disturbing, unnatural?”

“You’re repeating yourself. It would be more disturbing if Gwendal and I slept together. Listen, have you got a handkerchief on you? I seem to have run out of them.”

Yuuri patted his pockets then fished one out of his trousers. “I haven’t used it,” he said, noticing Wolfram giving it a suspicious look.

“Good,” the blond said taking it. He dabbed it into a glass of water that stood on the nightstand. He wrung it out and started rubbing his forehead with it.

Yuuri walked over to him. “You’ve left a spot here,” he said, pointing at the blond’s forehead.

With a displeased smack of his lips Wolfram handed over the handkerchief to the younger man. Yuuri wiped at the spot. The paint resisted, and he pressed harder.

“Ow.”

“Mm… I think it’s coming off.”

“What? My forehead?”

“You complain an awful lot. Almost clear. You know, I do love you.”

Wolfram looked up at him from behind the handkerchief. “So you think.”

“Yes, I think I do. I believe so.”

In silence, Yuuri finished wiping the blond’s forehead. He dropped the handkerchief into the glass. The water splashed a little on the nightstand. He bent over again, leaning forward. Surprisingly, Wolfram didn’t pull back, and he pressed his lips against the blond’s. It was different from the last time. It was gentle, soft. He was still desperate, but there was no urgency or anger this time. His hand slid into the mop of blond hair and he ruffled it, enjoying the richness and thickness of it. 

With his hand still on the back of Wolfram’s head, Yuuri leaned away to look at his face. The blond seemed to be somewhat surprised and cautious, but he didn’t appear to be put off. The king leaned in for another kiss and, this time, Wolfram’s lips parted for him.

Yuuri wasn’t any more skilled than he had been before. Wolfram still found it endearing. What attracted him most to Yuuri was probably his honesty. There was just something about that naïve honesty that kept constantly flooring him. It annoyed him often as well but, most likely, it was only because he was envious of it. One just couldn’t survive in the world with that kind of mindset. And yet, Yuuri kept proving everyone wrong. He survived, he thrived. Not without outside help, of course, but still. Wasn’t that even more amazing?

Wolfram was answering his kiss. What’s more, he was putting his strength into it, encouraging him, teaching him. Yuuri’s hold on the back of the blond’s head had turned into a grip while he was trying to catch the other man’s every breath and sigh. He was still bent over while the blond was sitting on the bed and it was uncomfortable. The king drew closer, forward and rested one knee on the bed while his other, half-bent, was in between the blond’s thighs.

A few moments later Yuuri realized that the noise in the room, which he had become aware of at some point, was the sounds of them kissing: wet, smacking, slurping sounds. That excited him even more. He was getting hard and had no doubts that Wolfram was enjoying this no less. He could have checked but was reluctant to pull away in case the blond was to regain his senses; there was no need to rush it when everything was going so well.

The king was pushing him backwards, into the bedding and mattress. The maneuver was careful and masked behind gentleness but was unmistakable. Wolfram had resisted at first but after experiencing kiss after convincing kiss, he quickly forgot why he had been resisting when it felt so good.

Climbing farther onto the bed, Yuuri pushed the blond down onto the mattress. They kept kissing, and Wolfram was still in the lead but now that he had the blond trapped underneath him, he felt more confident. He leaned more of his weight on the other man while supporting the rest of it with his left arm and leg. His free hand slid south, fumbled a little with the blond’s tucked shirt then slid underneath it. Maybe his progress was too hurried as Wolfram started and broke the kiss.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he muttered.

“Trying to get to the stage you and von Ashira were at when I found you two.”

Yuuri was obviously serious. Wolfram stared up at him with unmistakable lust in his emerald eyes but it was soon covered by no less obvious reluctance.

“No.”

Yuuri chuckled, the sound self-content, filled with lust. He leaned forward to issue another kiss, and Wolfram found that he wasn’t able to refuse it. A moment later, Yuuri leaned away.

“You do realize that you aren’t being very convincing, don’t you?” he said looking at the sight in front of him. He wished to burn it into his memory: Wolfram’s flushed face, swollen lips, glistening with saliva, the obvious bulge in his trousers. Yuuri felt drunk off his own power – it was him who had put Wolfram in such a state. He had made Wolfram want him. Badly at that.

The king’s hand slid under the blond’s shirt again. It was caught in an iron grip, anger now appearing on Wolfram’s face.

“I said ‘no’!”

Yuuri gave him a questioning look, but the blond appeared to be dead-serious, and he removed his hand; making Wolfram angry with him wasn’t part of his plan. He was disappointed. Silently, he stared down at Wolfram then blinked slowly, once, twice. Uncertain, Wolfram shifted when the king leaned down again. Instead of kissing him, though, Yuuri whispered into his ear: “Playing coy? Really? After we have witnessed you being thoroughly plowed by von Ashira? I find that does not make much sense, Wolfram.”

The words were permeated both with lust and laughter but they were overshadowed with obvious discontent. Wolfram turned his head to stare at the younger man in surprise. “Yuuri?”

“No.”

Soundlessly, waiting, Wolfram continued to stare up at the king. He had faced Shinou a few times before, but it had never been personal or up close like this. He had no idea how to act. Not until the king’s hand palmed him through his trousers.

The king let out a surprised shriek when his back hit the floorboards next to the bed, barely avoiding conking his head.

“I told you to stop that,” Wolfram said, looking at him from the bed. He wasn’t certain who he was talking to, but that didn’t make any difference.

Shinou blinked at him in disbelief then summoned his elements while, at the same time, blocked the connection between Wolfram and his. The blond cried out when an invisible force slammed into him, plastering him to the mattress.

“That’s really brave of you!” the blond hissed after he had failed to summon his fire element. “That’s what one calls a fair fight, isn’t it?”

Shinou, who had climbed back into the bed, gave him a surprised look. “I have no intention to fight you.”

“Then what do you call this?!”

“This is self-defense.” Wolfram sputtered in indignation, and Shinou chuckled. “You will have to forgive me my impudence as it gets unbearably dull and lonely existing between the Temple and Shibuya’s mind.” He reached out to the blond again, but his hand faltered at the scintillating look in the green eyes.

“I’ll hit you,” Wolfram warned even though he was barely able to move.

“Hit me and you hit Shibuya,” Shinou said with a soft, mocking smile.

“He deserves it for not being able to control you,” Wolfram spat.

The Original King stared at the blond. He was both enraged and impressed. No one had ever dared to speak to him like that.

“I cannot be controlled…not by Shibuya nor anyone else,” he hissed. With satisfaction, he noted the emerald eyes widen in alarm. They widened even more when he reached out to brush over his left cheek. He wished to tell von Bielefeld that it was futile to struggle, that he was his already. That, however, would have resulted in even more prideful struggles and countless attempts to escape. Von Bielefeld was too proud for his own good.

“Do not worry,” Shinou said instead. “Shibuya and I, we have an agreement. It is not my intention to cause you any harm.”

“Then what do you want?” Wolfram asked without any signs of being relieved.

“Want…” Shinou repeated thoughtfully. There were many things he wanted. He stroked the blond’s cheek again. He could sense confusion and anger swirling in von Bielefeld’s mind. “You paint yourself a great victim,” he said. “Unrequited love, drama, tragedy. Such a noble and beautiful, such a snobbish suffering. Why does it have to be so pompous?”

“It’s not pompous and I’m not pretending!” Wolfram protested angrily. “Will you stop touching me finally?!”

“No, I do not think that you are pretending. I do, however, believe that you are wallowing in your gallant suffering and inspire yourself to remain doing so for years to come. That is the truth, is it not? Have you, however, thought about Shibuya’s drama? His insecurities and responsibilities, his guilt? Don’t you think he has had his fair share of them as well? I dare say even more than you, Wolfram.

“Now he is attempting to mend the harm he has done to you. Is it not meaningless to resist him when you want him so much?” He emphasized his words by squeezing Wolfram’s now almost soft penis, making the blond let out a row of unclear, indescribable sounds of anger and threats.

“Stop it! It’s too late now!”

Shinou laughed unpleasantly, the voice hard, irritated. “Too late? Neither you nor Shibuya are dead. All that comes from your mouth are disgraceful excuses. This is your pride and stubbornness talking.”

Wolfram glared at him. Even if it was so, it was none of Shinou’s business. “So what is this all about?” Wolfram wondered. “Do you want to warn me? To intimidate me?”

“To make you change your mind.”

Wolfram’s eyebrows rose. Shinou was either an arrogant prick or didn’t know him at all. He laughed. “You think that by threatening me you will make me stay with Shibuya? Let me assure you that this will only bring the opposite result.”

“That was not a threat.”

“You could have fooled me.”

“Insolent prick.”

At least their thoughts concerning each other matched. Wolfram glared at the king. “Why should I stay with a man whose mind is as changeable as weather and who has no control over another man in his head? The one who thinks that he can do with me as he pleases.”

Shinou’s eyes turned dark. “How dare you speak to me like this? I am your king!”

“No. Shibuya of Shin Makoku is my king. You…you are the past. He is the present. Why do you still interfere?”

Shinou stared at him, enraged, stunned, hurt. “I ought to kill you.”

“Leave Shibuya to his own devices. He’s not a kid anymore who needs to be led by hand. Do you think he will be pleased to hear about you threatening me to stay with him? Whatever agreement you two have between yourselves, this is definitely crossing the line.”

“I am not threatening you,” Shinou repeated.

“You have just threatened to kill me.”

“I will not.” 

Shinou stared at the blond quietly, not saying anything else. Von Bielefeld was cunning. He was also right. Only…where would it leave him? Dormant for the rest of Shibuya’s existence? Sleepwalking in the Temple until the day he was reborn? He didn’t like the idea. He was a thing of the past indeed, but he wasn’t dead. Neither was he alive. That was the problem.

Wolfram suddenly felt the pressure disappear off his body. The look in the king’s eyes had changed as well. 

Shinou was gone.

Yuuri blinked at Wolfram uncertainly while his mind was trying to piece together the missing information. To his relief, he found that both he and Wolfram were still dressed. Nonetheless, something about the way Wolfram was looking at him told him that something serious had just transpired. 

“What did he do?”

“Nothing,” Wolfram said. He looked around for his crutch and slid off the bed. He tucked his shirt back into his trousers and picked up his crutch. “Let’s go have dinner. I’m starving.”

Disbelieving, Yuuri watched him move towards the door. “Hey!” he called at the blond’s back. “Goddamit, will you stop?!” he called again when Wolfram didn’t react. “What the hell did he do?!”

_ _ _

“I’m really, really sorry,” Conrart said.

Gwendal sighed. “I know you are. Let’s hope his arm heals without any complications.”

Conrart stood up to pour himself a glass of water. He sat down back into the chair opposite Gwendal’s desk and emptied it in two large gulps.

“I don’t even want to know what happened this time, but it’s Gurrier’s fault again, isn’t it?”

Conrart let out a long sigh, filled with regret. He didn’t even have the strength to feel ashamed. It had been the first time that he had let anger consume him during a spar. A morning spar with Yozak was a daily routine. Like every morning, Yozak showed up fresh and crisp just as always, full of jokes and good humor. As if nothing had happened. As if nothing had ever been happening. And that did it. The spar had turned into a fight. He had no idea he could feel so much anger and resentment. He had somehow broken Yozak’s arm. Not intentionally, but he had kept pushing Yozak until there was a snap.

“It’s no one’s fault,” Conrart said finally.

“Why don’t you travel back to Kardera?” The astonishment on his brother’s face was so evident that it made von Voltaire throw his hands apart. “What?”

“You’re suggesting I go after Ine? Really?”

“And why not? From what I heard he’s a perfectly fine man. And anyone is better than Gurrier, to be honest.”

“That’s just plain insulting.”

“But true.”

Conrart sighed again.

“One day you’ll end up killing each other. Go to Kardera and forget him.”

“Are you certain you’re qualified to give advice? Wolfram is probably still angry with you for sleeping with von Ashira.”

Gwendal’s eyebrows rose. Against all his hopes, it seemed that his fling with the duke was a well-established fact that everyone was aware of. It was going to come up in many conversations. Oh, well, it didn’t really matter.

“If he were, my study or chambers would have already been set on fire. Wolfram isn’t very subtle in expressing his anger, as we both know.”

Conrart squeezed out a smile. “Indeed.” He suddenly lowered his head into his hands. “Ahhrhh… I’m sorry. I…” He looked up at his brother again. “To be honest, I don’t even like Ine that much. Besides, von Ashira is looking for a bride for him.”

“Oh. That’s news to me.”

“Yeah…”

“What are his thoughts on that?”

“I don’t care what his thoughts are, Gwendal. Yozak just pissed me off! I can’t do this anymore!”

“I know you can’t. I was asking about Ine.”

“Will you stop that? I couldn’t care less about Ine!”

Gwendal rolled his eyes. “Right.” It seemed that Conrart was about to be hit by another fit of hysterical aggression. Conrart needed a break. “I want to propose a plan,” von Voltaire said.

Conrart grunted angrily. “Oh really?” 

“Yes. A very simple one. Break up with him and go away to get over him. Then find yourself a decent man.”

Conrart clapped his hands in malevolent glee. “Sounds awfully familiar! Really, where have I heard that before? Hasn’t exactly worked out, has it?”

“It actually has.”

Conrart gave him a questioning look but Gwendal raised both of his hands to stop him from going there. “Let’s just concentrate on one thing at a time.”

“What if he follows me?”

“Do you want him to?”

Conrart glared at him.

“He won’t if he does not know where you’ve gone.”

“The funny thing is that he probably hates me now anyway. All this talk is useless.”

Gwendal’s palm rose to his forehead while his mouth bit back a curse. “Just break up with him. It’s the perfect opportunity. Just end it finally. You have already apologized to him for the accident. Now just take your horse and get the hell out of the castle and that will be the end of it. Return in a few months, I’ll send him on a mission somewhere. You won’t see his face or hear about him for quite a while.”

“Alright.”

Gwendal stared at him, not certain whether Conrart was pulling his leg or not. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“Splendid.”

TBC


	53. Part 53

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Kyou Kara Maou! – It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I’m not making any money from writing it.  
> Warnings: yaoi (male x male), violence, swearing, angst, drama. Wolfram-centric, out of character, original character.  
> Summary: With Yuuri’s upcoming birthday, Wolfram makes his decision. Where will it lead him and what is to become of them? Should eventually be Yuuri x Wolfram.  
> A/N 1: Yuuri – 18 years old. Wolfram – 21. Eldara – 32. Halea – 20. Athara – 18. Gwendal – 54.  
> A/N 2: Greta doesn’t exist.  
> A/N 3: European/American/Japanese standards all at once depending on the plot requirements.  
> A/N 4: A tendency to ignore the anime/manga and supplement the story with my own imagined facts.   
> A/N 5: Season III is not taken into consideration, except for the fact that Wolfram’s uncle exists.  
> A/N 6: The umlaut in Gunter’s name is a bother.

**Bloom**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Anonymously Awesome

Part 53

There was someone in his bed. Feeling uncertain, Wolfram stopped in the doorway and looked around his bedroom. It didn’t seem like anyone else was there. He snapped his fingers, and the candles in the room flared brighter. It only resulted in making the person-shaped lump under the covers seem bigger and more dangerous.

“Who’s there?”

Yuuri’s head poked out from under the covers. “Do you really need to ask?”

Wolfram relaxed. “I suppose not.”

Wolfram walked over to the bed. He lifted the covers to find Yuuri wearing a nightie. It was light green with frills of darker green around the collar and sleeves. The outfit both amused and aroused Wolfram. He hesitated a little before climbing into the bed. Once he did, Yuuri’s arms wrapped around him at once, pulling him onto himself. Lust engulfed Wolfram as soon as he was enveloped by the younger man’s body and scent. They kissed greedily as Wolfram got Yuuri’s ridiculous nightie out of their way. The younger male wore nothing underneath and was hard as a rock. The feeling of his smooth, hot rod fascinated Wolfram so much that he wasted no time getting down on all fours and sucking it. One thing led to another and soon Wolfram was riding that firm, slick dick. His ass felt unbelievably good. It was hot, incredibly hot.

Dazed with pleasure and lust Wolfram didn’t notice the lock of hair on the pillow next to Yuuri’s head. The curl was dark violet and once Wolfram became aware of it, he thought that it was Eldara’s. He slowed down his pace and reached out to remove the rest of the covers from the other pillow. It was Halea’s. The woman’s brown eyes blinked at him slowly. Was it lazy? Seductive? Wolfram didn’t know, he was confused.

Since the blond had stopped moving, Yuuri pushed him off. He was still hard and wasted no time. Halea spread her legs for him. Her pregnant stomach would bulge out even more every time Yuuri drove into her. He pulled out at some point and a formless mass slid out of her mound with a loud gurgle. It had large fish eyes.

Wolfram woke up covered in sweat. It was incredibly hot. Disoriented, he pushed the covers aside, but it was still hot. He wiped his forehead. He felt sick while the chaotic images from his dream kept flashing in his mind.

“What the fuck was that?” he muttered, nearly gagging.

_ _ _

It had been the product of his fears. That much was certain.

Wolfram was brushing Kerda’s mane thoroughly while annoying thoughts raced around his head. As he had not been able to return to sleep after that dream, he had gotten up early. He wished to be able to go for a ride but that was still impossible, and he had to content himself with only brushing his horses.

At about eight o’clock there was an uncommon noise in the yard. Strange noise in the yard usually meant that someone had been hurt during a spar or fell off a horse. Half an hour later he found out that Conrart had broken Yozak’s arm. 

Most unpleasant.

He wanted to have a word with Conrart but, obviously, he was currently having many words with Gwendal. Wolfram knew he should go see Yozak, if only to be polite. Yet, he wasn’t fond of this idea as he didn’t trust himself not to start taking sides in their senseless conflict. Thus, he was stuck in the stables, brushing horses. Kerda’s coat was shining like the sun already.

_ _ _

They were playing cards on the balcony outside the dining room. The weather was hot and sunny but the balcony was still in the shade, well-hidden from the morning sun. There was almost no wind, making it easy to deal cards on the table.

Eldara picked up a card from the pile. Not a muscle moved on his face to betray his disappointment. He had needed nine of spades to win, instead he had drawn a seven. At this rate, it was most likely that it would be Wolfram who won. Von Ashira cast a look at Gwendal, who was comfortably seated in a wicker chair opposite him. Von Voltaire needed any kind of seven to win. With himself and Wolfram having already housed three on them, there wasn’t a big chance left for Gwendal to get one.

“I hear Sir Weller and Sir Gurrier had a disagreement,” Eldara said softly without lifting his eyes from the pile in front of him.

“Is this even news?” Wolfram muttered.

“I dare say it is none of your business,” Gwendal said.

“Was it because of Ine?” Eldara wondered, ignoring him.

“Among other things,” Wolfram said. “If not Ine, then someone else. This has been going on for nearly a decade.”

“Wolfram.”

Von Voltaire’s strict voice had no effect Wolfram. “The broken arm, though…” he continued. “I think that’s a first.”

The duke hummed softly. “It would probably be a good idea to send Sir Gurrier away for the time being.”

“I do not remember asking you for advice,” Gwendal snapped at him.

“He’s sending Conrart away instead,” Wolfram enlightened von Ashira. “Yozak meanwhile will have enough time to heal and, possibly, figure out how to stop being such an asshole.”

Gwendal’s palm slammed against the counter of the card table, making the other two males start.

“Wolfram, I will not tolerate you gossiping like an old fishwife! Where are your manners?”

Von Bielefeld’s eyebrows rose in response. “Did you just really say that?” he wondered, casting a meaningful glance at Eldara then Gwendal. Gwendal’s face flushed red.

Von Ashira grinned. “He is adorable, isn’t he?”

“Will you shut up?” Gwendal grunted out.

Eldara rolled his eyes. “Are you sending Sir Weller after my captain?” he asked.

“No. Besides, I hear you are actively looking for a bride for him.”

The duke nodded. “Indeed.” He faltered for a moment then gave Gwendal an uncertain look. “Well, I suppose I could postpone the matter.”

Wolfram snickered. “Don’t be fooled,” he told Gwendal. “He knows that you will never ask that of him.”

“There’s no need,” Gwendal said. “This has nothing to do with Ine.”

Eldara shrugged. “If you say so.”

“I’m done,” Wolfram said, opening his cards for the other two to see.

“Congratulations,” Eldara said with a sigh while opening his own.

“It is too early to congratulate him,” Gwendal said, lowering his cards onto the table. “My win.”

With a pout, Wolfram threw his cards onto the table. He reached out for the bowl with dried plums and popped one into his mouth. He stood up and took his crutch. 

“I think I’ve had enough for today. I’ll go and see how Conrart is doing…will also visit Yozak while I’m at it.”

Gwendal wanted to tell him not to overdo it but swallowed the words without uttering them; Wolfram probably knew even better than himself what must be said and what had to be kept quiet.

“Wolfram certainly knows you well,” Gwendal commented once Wolfram left. “Pretending to be generous when you don’t even plan to.”

Eldara smiled. “That’s why I wanted to marry him. It is a very delightful feeling when despite one’s wickedness they are still admired.”

Von Voltaire said nothing. He took a carafe with water and poured himself a glassful. He offered to fill the duke’s, but he refused.

“I did mean it, however. If you wanted me to, I would consider postponing the wedding.”

“You ought to discuss this with people involved.”

“Aren’t you involved?”

Gwendal sighed. Sipping from his glass he leaned back into the wicker chair. He knew von Ashira did mean it, and it only made things more difficult. 

“It’s supposed to be a secret that Conrart is going away,” he said.

“Noted.”

“So you are leaving in three days?” Gwendal asked in a moment.

Eldara nodded. “Yes.”

“And we will never see each other again?”

“No, we probably will not.”

Von Voltaire emptied his glass and lowered it with a soft thud. He wondered whether the duke wanted him to tell him not to go. It was impossible in any case.

“Well,” Gwendal said, “let us make the most of these few remaining days.”

“Yes, let us do so,” Eldara said without looking at him. There wasn’t any enthusiasm in his voice either.

They sat quietly for some time, both immersed in their thoughts, not certain what – if anything – should be said. Neither was content with the status quo but lacked the assertiveness to change it.

Finally, Eldara spoke: “You know, Wolfram advised me to treat this,” he motioned at himself then Gwendal, “as a challenge overcome.”

Gwendal’s brow furrowed. “Did he now?”

“Yes, but the thing is that I do not feel as if I have overcome anything. Instead, it feels that I have lost.”

Gwendal let out an exasperated sigh. “Why is it always about losing and winning with you? You would be spared a lot of pain if you stopped measuring everything in that manner.”

“I would also be deprived of a lot of excitement and pleasure,” Eldara pointed out.

Von Voltaire rolled his eyes.

“You are guilty of feeling that pleasure as well.”

Gwendal could not refute it. He certainly was, but much more in his younger days. Von Ashira reminded him of his past days. Maybe that nostalgia was one of the reasons that attracted him to the duke.

Von Voltaire watched Eldara carefully for a few moments. “And what would make you feel that you have won?” he asked finally.

The duke’s eyes widened slightly. To his embarrassment, he realized that his face started to heat up.

Amused, Gwendal chuckled. “I see.” He couldn’t help thinking that von Ashira was much more honest with his feelings than him. It was pretty amazing. He felt his heart soften.

“Maybe there is a way to make us both feel that we have won,” he wondered. He regretted the words as soon as he had said them, though. It had certainly sounded like there was a compromise to be made. Yet, he wanted no compromises between himself and the duke. There were things he couldn’t forgive even the man he was sleeping with. No, especially the man he was sleeping with.

Von Voltaire watched the blue eyes concentrate on him with interest and expectation.

“I believe I have already contributed my share to make it happen,” Eldara said carefully.

“So you have,” Gwendal agreed.

Von Voltaire didn’t say anything else, just sat there quietly, his gaze cast over the balcony down the mountain at the roofs of the city far in the distance. Eldara felt foolish for having bared himself while, seemingly, he had not received anything in return. On the other hand, he had known beforehand how it would end. Yet, for some reason, he had wanted von Voltaire’s honest opinion and approval. Von Ashira smiled bitterly, suddenly recognizing many parallels between himself and his brother, Athara. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling.

“You do have a pretty strong father’s complex, don’t you?” von Voltaire said suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere. He turned to von Ashira’s surprised face.

“Mmm… What makes you say so?”

Gwendal’s eyebrows rose and he chuckled. “Do you want me to elaborate?”

The duke rolled his eyes. “No, I suppose I don’t.”

Seeing how Eldara became somewhat distraught, Gwendal waved off dismissively. “All of us have a father’s complex, to a certain extent. Yours is just…very noticeable.”

The duke rolled his eyes again. The pathetic attempt to console and/or pacify him was unneeded. He felt anger begin to brew in the pit of his stomach.

Gwendal realized that he had sounded quite patronizing and gave the younger man an apologetic look. The duke shrugged dismissively. Von Voltaire sighed. No matter what Eldara expected of him, their relationship was still impossible. It was an anomaly that he himself would never come to terms with. He didn’t even know what he had meant when he had said that there might be an outcome to satisfy them both. He didn’t want one.

“No matter what I say, nothing will change,” Gwendal said. “You will still leave, and I will stay here. A long-distance relationship is not an option either. This,” he motioned at himself then at Eldara, “will end in three days.”

“I know that much!” Eldara snapped at him. “It’s not about that, you realize, do you not?”

Of course Gwendal did realize. What Eldara wanted was admission of some sorts, some kind of acceptance. It probably was not even possible to express it verbally. In fact, what Eldara wanted from him was something intangible. Gwendal felt resistance within himself. The opposition that he felt had always been there during his and the duke’s short acquaintance. He had already indulged Eldara more than enough. The duke had interfered with his routine and reputation. Eldara had no right to demand anything from him.

_ _ _

 

Conrart wasn’t talkative. Wolfram watched him pace around his almost ascetic room while picking one thing after another and placing them into the saddle bags on the bed.

“You’re leaving only in three days,” Wolfram said while looking around where to sit down in this tiny room.

“Yeah,” Conrart said without any signs of slowing down.

Wolfram chose to sit on a small stool that stood at the table, which served as both a dining table and a writing desk. Besides these two pieces of furniture there was a small wardrobe and a bed with a little cabinet next to it. It had been a long time since he had visited Conrart’s frugal room. Against all sense, the former Demon Queen’s second-born son lived in soldier barracks just as any other common soldier would. He had a room inside the castle but had stopped using it almost a decade ago. Instead, it was usually Yozak who would find his way into the vacant room and make use of the soft mattress there.

The reasons for him living in the barracks were known probably only to Conrart. Wolfram had never asked him about that. In fact, he remembered himself being glad about his half-blood brother not living under the same roof. Now Wolfram was ashamed of his old self. He could only wonder why, at the time, he had been filled with so much hurt and resentment towards his brother.

Gwendal’s plan was simple: Conrart was to leave in three days, at the same time as von Ashira so as to convince Gurrier that Conrart went with him to Kardera. In truth, Conrart was going in the opposite direction – to Wiederhaal. He was to take charge in Reinstadt, a town close to Reinacht Forest. Several reports had come in over the past two weeks about a network of dragon poachers and smugglers in Wiederhaal. Some people were convinced that powdered dragon claws was a panacea for impotency while others maintained that a few drops of preserved dragon blood could cure infertility in women.

Conrart had given an oath to be at the king’s side and protect him thus Wolfram was certain that his brother’s absence wouldn’t last more than a month or two. Yet, Wolfram could tell that those months were going to appear much longer than usual for everyone.

Conrart could feel his brother’s eyes following him to and fro. Wolfram hadn’t said a word about the incident between himself and Yozak. He just sat quietly, watching him pace. As the minutes passed, so did Conrart’s irritation. He soon started feeling more foolish than angry. He dropped his spare blanket next to the bags then sat down next to them on the bed. He stared at the floor, feeling pathetic. He was the older brother, he was supposed to know better. This was so embarrassing…

“Do you want to go for a walk?” Wolfram suggested.

Conrart thought for a moment then shook his head. “Not particularly.”

“Alright.”

There were two elongated gaps on the floor between the boards. An ant had crawled out of one of them and now was scurrying across the floor at its top speed towards the table in hopes of finding a breadcrumb or two. Conrart hoped that this didn’t indicate a start of an ant infestation.

“Do you want me to leave?” Wolfram asked as his brother kept staring at the floor, oblivious of him.

Conrart shook his head. “Not particularly.”

The ant now was clambering over the leg of the table that was closest to Wolfram. 

“If Yozak writes to Ine, he’ll find out that you are not in Kardera,” Wolfram said after a while. “They do get along pretty well, don’t they?”

“I know Ine well enough to say that the only response that Yozak would receive would be that Ine has managed to change von Ashira’s mind and we are already happily married.”

Wolfram couldn’t help smiling. “Popular, aren’t you?”

Conrart sighed. “With the wrong people apparently.”

“How about showing some initiative? Finding a woman and making a cute family with a few kids?”

Conrart gave him a look. “Sounds nice, doesn’t work.”

“Well, there’s always a chance once you get over that red-haired gorilla.”

“Wolfram, you’re the same size as he is.”

“Am I? I keep forgetting my growth spurt. But really? I can’t be as big as him.”

Conrart chuckled. “Almost.”

“So how about that walk in the garden? Or are you still going to stress about and contemplate this poor ant’s life?”

The ant was now running in circles on the table while avoiding Wolfram’s lower arms and hands on it. There weren’t any crumbs as Conrart had meticulously cleaned the table after his meal.

“Let’s take it outside with us,” Conrart said, standing up.

“It will die without its colony.”

“All the same.”

Once Wolfram managed to harmlessly guide the ant onto his sleeve, they left the barracks. Rolling towards midday, the sun had become scorching, and they chose paths in the shade amongst bushes.

“Send me a message once you arrive there.”

Conrart, who had been lost in thought, gave his brother an uncertain look. “I’m sorry. What did…?”

“I said ‘Send us a note once you’ve arrived in Wiederhaal’.”

“Oh yes, of course.”

“Let’s sit down,” Wolfram said motioning at the bench a little farther away from them; they had been following the paths in the garden for quite a while now.

“Your leg has almost healed,” Conrart said watching his brother sit down without much discomfort.

“Yes, I’ll be able to resume training in a week or two.”

“You’re still planning to leave for Lesa?”

“Yes.”

Unsure, Conrart kicked at the gravel under the bench. The motion and the resulting sound appeared to be soothing and he kicked again.

“Don’t bother,” Wolfram said before his brother could open his mouth, “I won’t stay.”

Conrart’s boots poked the gravel again. “I’m in no position to say anything, of course, but why don’t you give him a chance?”

“He’s got to work his way up to being an option first.”

“Oh.” Conrart dug a small pit in the gravel. “You don’t like him anymore?”

“Rather than ‘like’ or ‘dislike’… I’m not certain I…” Wolfram trailed off, thinking how to put what he felt into words. “I think it’s a question of trust. I don’t think I trust him.”

Conrart nodded. It was always a question of trust even if one loved the person. He himself had reached the point where he wasn’t able to trust Yozak anymore.

“But he can never prove that you can if you don’t let him.”

“I know. Nonetheless, at this point, I don’t think I want to let him.”

“You might regret it later.”

“I probably will,” Wolfram agreed.

“Are you certain that you aren’t just trying to punish him?” Conrart asked him carefully. “Maybe you’re still angry with him for the pain he had caused you?”

“Well, of course I am!” Wolfram snapped at him. “How could I not be? Now he’s prancing about sending me gifts and expecting me to gratefully fall at his feet in admiration of his splendor. Fuck that!”

Conrart couldn’t help smiling. “You know he isn’t.”

Wolfram rolled his eyes and leaned into the backrest with a thud. “I hate what he’s doing.”

“You don’t. You hate that you like it.”

Wolfram stared at the sky angrily. Had he always been so obvious to others? That was why Yuuri wouldn’t leave him in peace either – his rejection was half-hearted, and Yuuri was an option already, albeit an untrustworthy one.

_ _ _

Wolfram found Yozak in the barracks’ canteen. He was somewhat surprised to see Karela sitting next to him. They were talking, and their conversation seemed to be jovial. The two of them were obviously on very friendly terms. Perhaps Conrart was wrong about Karela. 

Yozak was eating soup with his left hand. He was doing quite well.

Everyone’s eyes were glued on Wolfram in curiosity – it wasn’t very often that someone from the main Houses visited the canteen. Wolfram sat down next to Yozak as fast as he could so as not to stand out from the dining crowd. Several seconds later chewing and slurping noises resumed, albeit a bit more quietly.

“Yozak. Sir,” Wolfram greeted the two men.

“Your Highness,” Ine nodded respectfully.

“Can’t I eat in peace?” Yozak grumbled, biting into a piece of bread. He lowered it back to the table, took the spoon and shoveled a few mouthfuls of soup into his mouth. Then he left the spoon in the bowl and took the bread to repeat the process.

“How is your arm?” Wolfram asked ignoring the rude greeting.

Yozak snorted. “Still broken.”

Absently, Wolfram trailed a small split on the wooden table with his finger. It was a miniature river of pea soup. It seemed that Yozak was shifting all the blame for the incident on Conrart’s shoulders. This was fine with Wolfram, but Conrart didn’t deserve this. 

“You hurt him, you know.”

“He’s hurt?” Yozak wondered, aghast. “Really? It’s me whose fucking arm is broken!”

Wolfram’s eyes shifted towards Ine, who had stayed quiet during the exchange. The captain met his eyes and shrugged. Right. It was only between Conrart and Yozak. Ine either didn’t care or was smart enough not to want to get involved. Idiocy. This triangle had been pure idiocy from the very start. Why didn’t Yozak see it?

Without another word, Wolfram got up and left the canteen.

_ _ _

Disbelieving, Wolfram stared at the white kitten in Yuuri’s arms. Yuuri had called the blond from the corridor when he was about to enter his chambers.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Wolfram said under his breath, feeling incredulity and anger rising from the very pit of his stomach. “This is really… No, you can’t be serious…”

“It’s for you,” Yuuri said, a satisfied smile on his face. He held out the kitten towards Wolfram, and the kitten baaed softly. Yuuri stroked it to calm it down.

Wolfram made no move to take it. “Was it Gunter who told you?”

Yuuri shrugged. He continued to stroke the kitten and it was purring loudly. “You won’t need the second kitten from von Ashira if you have this one.”

“Put it down on the floor,” Wolfram said.

Yuuri shook his head. “You will hit me if I do that.” Now he was holding the kitten in front of him as a shield.

“Of course, I’ll hit you!” Wolfram hissed at him. “Where do you think I’ll keep it?” he snorted, throwing the door to his chambers open.

About a dozen of little, fluffy heads turned their way, reacting to the sound. Wolfram pointed at the kittens on the sofa. “These three are from Gwendal. The one near the wardrobe is from Mother. Those two are from Eldara The other five came from Shinou’s Temple because they don’t know where else they can put them.”

While Wolfram was talking, the white kitten jumped from Yuuri’s arms and shot forward to join the merry groups of playing and fighting kittens.

“Well,” Yuuri said, grinning, “one more won’t hurt.”

Wolfram looked at him, opened his mouth to tell him that he was an idiot, but then woke up. He lay still blinking at the ceiling. The dream was already leaving his consciousness, but he still had time to wonder about it. He would have found the dream funny, but there were also many disturbing things about it. 

Yawning, the blond rolled onto his other side. He was about to fall asleep again, but heard something scratch or groan in the other room. Sleepily, he rolled out of the bed. He went to the door, opened it, called for his fire element to light it and was relieved to see no kittens in the room. Must have been the creaky floor in the corridor outside his room.

TBC


	54. Part 54

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Kyou Kara Maou! – It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I’m not making any money from writing it.  
> Warnings: yaoi (male x male), violence, swearing, angst, drama. Wolfram-centric, out of character, original character.  
> Summary: With Yuuri’s upcoming birthday, Wolfram makes his decision. Where will it lead him and what is to become of them? Should eventually be Yuuri x Wolfram.  
> A/N 1: Yuuri – 18 years old. Wolfram – 21. Eldara – 32. Halea – 20. Athara – 18. Gwendal – 54.  
> A/N 2: Greta doesn’t exist.  
> A/N 3: European/American/Japanese standards all at once depending on the plot requirements.  
> A/N 4: A tendency to ignore the anime/manga and supplement the story with my own imagined facts.   
> A/N 5: Season III is not taken into consideration, except for the fact that Wolfram’s uncle exists.  
> A/N 6: The umlaut in Gunter’s name is a bother.

**Bloom**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Anonymously Awesome

Part 54

Eldara watched Gwendal tread about the room while getting ready for the night. He soon undressed and slipped into the bed, naked. Von Voltaire’s sense of embarrassment was nearly non-existent. Or rather, it did exist but came into play in quite unexpected situations. Eldara found this behavior endearing.

After the passionate outburst in von Voltaire’s office, the man told him that it would be much more convenient if they shared one bedroom and it was, of course, Gwendal’s. He said that it was much less embarrassing than trying to sneak into each other’s bedrooms. It did make sense in some weird way, and Eldara moved in at once.

The sex was good. Gwendal seemed to be much more honest in bed than in his daily life. He was an attentive sex partner. Eldara still hadn’t found out whether von Voltaire had any interesting or strange fetishes or not. There hadn’t been any requests even though Eldara was more than ready to fulfill whatever the older man wished of him. Eldara did realize that he was falling in love – this time with a real, tangible person – but he didn’t even try resist the feeling. It somehow didn’t bother him. Perhaps it was because he knew it was not meant to be. This didn’t feel exactly right, but it felt safe. This would end in three days. Whatever was going to transpire between himself and Gwendal was temporary and was going to leave bittersweet feelings. Nonetheless, this realization didn’t stop him from wanting to rouse similar feelings of attachment in Gwendal. It was probably his pride that wasn’t satisfied with the status quo. On the other hand, it was only natural to want the person one likes to like them back just as much or even more. His steadfastness was probably off-putting, but Eldara couldn’t help it.

They had sex every night and sometimes a quickie during the day. It had been a long time since Eldara’s ass has been used so much. It felt good.

As the duke pretended not to be interested and just lay in the bed motionless, Gwendal took the initiative. He pushed the duvet aside, out of his way. The candlelight was poor but he was easily able to see that Eldara was at half-mast, already waiting and excited. Gwendal was no less eager. When they had had sex for the first time, he hadn’t been certain how it would go since he had only ever topped yet Eldara seemed to be no less dominating than himself. Yet, it appeared that appearances couldn’t be more deceiving. Eldara had never tried to top him, a fact that mystified Gwendal since his imagination had never wandered beyond Wolfram being the bottom in their relationship. 

Von Voltaire was curious about this type of versatility but, at the same time, was very reluctant to try it out himself. He felt that he had already given Eldara too much freedom and space. On the one hand, even while being on the receiving end, the duke somehow managed to exert his control over him. On the other hand, he loved how responsive Eldara was to his touch. He had taken Eldara in no less than five different positions and all of them had brought incredible satisfaction to both of them. At least it seemed so.

Eldara continued to lie there with pretend passiveness, waiting for him to make the first move. Gwendal palmed him and made several languid strokes. The penis in his hand twitched and started swelling. Gwendal lowered himself so that his knees were in between Eldara’s thighs and his mouth over the duke’s cock. He licked the very tip and heard Eldara grunt in surprise. The next second the duke’s fingers grasped at his tied hair, trying to make him continue.

Pleasuring his sex partners orally wasn’t something Gwendal did frequently or was keen on. It was gratifying to see their pleasure but he didn’t particularly like taking another man’s penis into his mouth no matter how pristinely clean it was. On the other hand, he loved fellatio being performed on himself. Eldara did it frequently and without reluctance. Gwendal couldn’t help but feel that he owed the man the same courtesy even though the duke had never asked for it.

Gwendal’s fingers pulled the foreskin down and his mouth engulfed the head. He sucked playfully, making Eldara’s hips arch up into his face, then let the cock sink deeper into his mouth. He wasn’t able to deepthroat and had never wanted to be able to. He bobbed his head up and down while massaging and rolling Eldara’s testicles with his left hand. The duke’s grip on his hair intensified, pulling a few strands out of his ponytail. Despite the painful pull, Gwendal grinned around the cock in his mouth. He wasn’t skilled at this but he sucked and pleasured while trying to remember and recreate what he himself liked, and it was obvious that Eldara was quite satisfied with that. The duke was apparently trying to hold back but the desperate, albeit soft, grunting and humming sounds that rose from the back of his throat were getting urgent.

In truth, von Voltaire would have liked the duke to be more vocal, but such wantonness was probably too much to expect in this eccentric relationship. Eldara pulled at Gwendal’s hair desperately.

“Going to come.”

Gwendal gave one last suck and let the cock slip out of his mouth with a wet smacking sound. The red, blood-engorged organ bobbed a little. Gwendal started stroking it with his hand, the rhythm messy, hurried. Eldara started coming a few seconds later, Gwendal lowering and pointing his cock towards his stomach while not ceasing to stroke and rub it. Once it was over, he took a handkerchief and wiped Eldara’s stomach and chest off.

Von Ashira gave him a languid, satisfied smile. Gwendal’s groin was throbbing, and he grabbed his shirt to wipe his hands. After that he snatched the condom from the bedside cabinet where it had been readied in advance. Once it had been rolled down his cock, he slicked it up even more with his saliva. Eldara had always been prepared up ‘til now, but just in case.

The duke watched the hurried preparation process with half-lidded, pleasure-dazed eyes. Once Gwendal knelt, ready, he rose and turned around before getting down on all fours, his ass rising into the air invitingly.

Gwendal spread the buttocks wider, shamelessly enjoying the view. His thumbs rubbed teasingly over the puckered entrance. It twitched in response and he felt the other man brace himself. Gwendal slipped his index finger in as far as it went. Eldara grunted in surprise, the muscle ring clamping down on the digit. It took a few moments for him to relax while the finger was wiggling around and exploring him. The hole was clean and slippery, Eldara having prepared himself in advance. This fueled Gwendal’s lust even though he saw the act just as another of the duke’s attempts to stay in control. 

Gwendal teased the duke for about a minute then pulled his finger out and positioned the tip of his cock at the entrance. He sank in slowly, stopping every once in a while to let Eldara adjust to the girth. Soon all of his cock was buried inside Eldara and, since the younger male showed no signs of discomfort, Gwendal pulled half-way out and then pushed back in. Slick, slippery and hot. Gwendal felt his mind switch off, lust and instinct taking over.

Eldara was soft so Gwendal took up massaging his cock while setting up a slow, irregular pace with his hips. 

With his eyes closed, the duke rested his forehead on the mattress. He was trying to concentrate on the cock drilling his ass and the hand pumping him. He was still too sensitive after having come and an occasional press against his prostate sent shivers down his entire body, making him clench around the invasive cock. His own cock was still soft but the older male’s fingers were deftly massaging vitality back into it.

The disagreeable pleasure that the duke seemed to experience every time his cock hit his prostate made Gwendal aim for it more accurately. Eldara muttered something under his breath, pressing his forehead against the mattress even harder. Gwendal didn’t really have a sadistic streak in him but he had noticed that the duke had some masochistic inclinations even though he still wanted to be in control all the time. This baffled Gwendal, but he indulged Eldara. 

Life had returned to Eldara’s cock, and Gwendal let go of it. Instead, his hand sank into the duke’s hair, tugging at it firmly, pulling his head backwards. This made Eldara’s spine arch inwards and his ass upwards. Eldara suddenly felt folded like an accordion, an accordion with a relentless cock drilling his ass. Gwendal’s left hand was planted on his hips, keeping him bound in one place.

Every brush against his prostate now sent sparks down into his cock. Eldara started stroking himself. His mind was going blank, the pleasure in his lower body taking over. His cock was leaking again. Gwendal was fucking him hard now, his thrusts quick, sweet jabs making him moan in pleasure. The friction in his passage felt incredible.

“I’m so fucking glad I haven’t married Wolfram,” Eldara grunted out, his ass aflame with the sweetest fire of all.

The rhythm faltered. Eldara realized that he had uttered the sentiment aloud, then he thought that maybe he had intended to share them after all. Moments later, he heard a soft chuckle as Gwendal’s body started shaking slightly. He was laughing.

“Now, that’s pleasant to hear,” he said, resuming his thrusting.

Naturally, Gwendal came first. Eldara could feel him seize up as his orgasm hit. He furiously stroked himself while the cock in his ass was still hard. He quickly felt his own orgasm coming. It washed over him, leaving him gasping for breath and senselessly tugging at his cock.

Gwendal pulled out carefully, rolled off Eldara and fell to his side of the bed. Satisfied, he stared at the ceiling. Then he sat up to remove the condom. He tied it and tossed in the general direction of the door; he would deal with it later.

“Goodnight,” he muttered tiredly, rolling on his side.

“Goodnight,” Eldara answered while wiping himself off with the same, previously used, handkerchief. It was soaking wet.

_ _ _

Wolfram jolted in bed. Disoriented, he looked around his bedroom. Suddenly, a white flash of light passed through the thick curtains, and the glasses on the table clinked softly. The gentle sound was suddenly drowned out by a loud boom across the air.

“Ugh,” Wolfram groaned, digging deeper into the bedding. It was dark in the room again, and he wondered what time it was. It had to be morning. It was hot in the bedroom and the air was clammy. It was no wonder there was lightning, as it had been so hot the evening before.

Obviously, he wasn’t going to get any more sleep. Another flash of white light lit his bedroom, and he sat up. Yawning, he rolled out of the bed and went to open the curtains. The sky was almost black with rolling, dark clouds, and it hardly became any lighter in the room. Wolfram unbolted the window and pushed it open. Instead of a gust of cool, fresh air, he was hit by a smell of smoke. Alarmed, he leaned out of the window but didn’t notice anything suspicious.

There was a sudden knock on the bedroom door and, startled, Wolfram whirled around, leaning back into the room.

“Sir! Your Highness!”

“Yes?”

The door flew open and Dacascos came rushing in. Only now Wolfram did realize that he was wearing only a nightshirt, but he forgot his embarrassment as soon as he saw the soldier’s agitated face.

“What happened?” Wolfram asked, rushing towards the wardrobe. He started pulling his clothes off the racks.

“There’s a fire in the east forest, Sir. It’s getting closer to the town as we speak. The wind is picking up too,” he reported while Wolfram was dressing. 

Pulling his trousers on, Wolfram wondered, “Aren’t there any strong fire or water wielders nearby? Even an earth-wielder would suffice in the worst case.”

“Err… Half of the forest is burning, Sir. It’s simply too big.”

Wolfram cursed under his breath. “How about others? Gwendal? Gunter?”

“They and His Majesty are getting ready. Sir is to meet them in the yard.”

“Right. Get my horse ready.”

“Already done, Sir.”

Buckling his belt and buttoning his jacket, Wolfram ran out of his room. His leg still pained him, but there was no time to lose and the crutch was left behind, leaning against the wall. Dacascos noticed the ajar window and went to close it then rushed out after von Bielefeld.

Gwendal was already in the yard, on his horse. Now Wolfram could see a wall of smoke coming from the east and when the wind blew stronger, flakes of ash started falling from the sky. After some struggle, Wolfram got on his horse. A soldier rushed to bring him a water flask with a scarf. Wolfram showed him where to put them and they were stuffed into his saddlebag. 

The blond noticed Eldara standing at the top of the stairs leading into the main entrance to the castle. Karela stood behind him, buttoning his shirt. Both men responded to von Bielefeld’s inquiring gaze with acknowledging nods. Wolfram inclined his head as well. It was surprising to see von Ashira staying behind in the castle, but he was obviously following Gwendal’s orders. The blond bit back a smile.

In a minute, Yuuri and Gunter appeared in the yard. Using no more than ten short sentences, von Voltaire briefed everyone present on the situation and urged his horse forward. The king and von Christ got on their horses and all of them, escorted by a group of soldiers, moved towards the gate after von Voltaire. Wolfram, however, due to his painful thigh, had no luxury of haste. He and two more soldiers soon were left behind in the dust while the other men’s backs receded and then completely disappeared around one of the turns down the mountain.

Wolfram reached the edge of the forest in about an hour. Just as he had been informed, there was a lane situated close to the forest. The fire was still quite far from the houses and an earth or air-wielder had flattened rather a large area of trees to increase the distance between the forest and the town. The wind, however, was picking up and the air was heating up, the ashes raining from the sky with each increasingly strong gust. The smoke from the forest was being blown in, the town nearly submerged in it. The echoing sounds of trees splitting in heat, falling, branches snapping against the trunks of other trees then hitting the ground could be heard.

There were several civilians and a few soldiers who had lined themselves in between the forest and the houses to intercept any gust of wind carrying destructive sparks. 

“Why doesn’t it finally rain?” one of Wolfram’s bodyguards grumbled angrily.

“Where’s von Voltaire?” Wolfram addressed one of the soldiers keeping watch over the houses.

“I saw a group of soldiers go that way, Sir,” he answered, pointing. “There’s a small settlement of several houses down the road. It’s probably already on fire as it’s directly in the path of the wind.”

Wolfram cursed and turned his horse to follow the road, then changed his mind. The king was probably able to take care of it. Wolfram, meanwhile, had to make certain that what had probably already happened to that settlement wouldn’t happen here.

“Any fire-wielders here?” Wolfram asked.

There was one amongst the civilians and one of his bodyguards. 

“Right. Air-wielders?”

There were two.

“Earth?”

“Me, Sir.”

“Is there a lake or any other source of water in the forest or around it?”

“No, Sir.”

“Then this will have to do,” Wolfram said. He bent down and started fumbling with his saddlebag.

“Allow me, Sir,” one of his bodyguards said, jumping down his horse. He opened Wolfram’s saddlebag and pulled out the bandana with the water flask. He wetted it and held it up for the blond, who tied it around his nose and mouth.

“We’ll follow the path into the forest,” Wolfram said, trying to make his voice sound clear through the cloth.

The men looked reluctant, but von Bielefeld was resolute, and all what was left for them was to get some cloths as well and follow him into the forest.

Due to the smoke and heat, they weren’t able to get very close to the fire. Once they got as close as was possible Wolfram, with the help of his bodyguards, climbed off his horse and called for his fire element. He sent it forward, concentrating hard, as he tried to grasp as much territory as possible and gauge the damage. His senses were suddenly overloaded and he staggered backwards. The affected territory was much larger than he had anticipated. There wasn’t any possibility for him to extinguish the fire on his own. Even with the help of the men he had brought with him, there was a slim chance.

“We’ll do it step by step,” Wolfram said, recalling his element for now. “Let’s start here and then proceed west. I will suppress the fire in a small area and move forward. Your job is to prevent it from catching fire again. Suck the air out, spray it with dirt or whatever else works, just as long as it stays safe.”

The men confirmed they had heard and were ready to follow the orders. However, at the same time, some of them met each other’s eyes uneasily. Von Bielefeld had made it sound like a relatively straightforward task to accomplish, but it wasn’t – it was dangerous. If an area they had considered clear caught fire and trapped them, they would be done for.

Wolfram chose a relatively small piece of land to start with but even then to try and blindly control the rampant fire was one of the most difficult things he had ever done. He had managed to suppress the fire in less than a minute, yet the effort this had required of him had been so great that it left him covered in sweat and with shaky legs. He had no time to rest as the fire was spreading back into the area from other directions. This had to be a constant process. While the men behind him were trying to isolate the extinguished area, Wolfram moved deeper into the forest. The smoke was much worse now but a gust of wind from behind dispersed some of it. Wolfram raised his arm in thanks.

They moved forward, section after section but it was a very slow progress and it didn’t seem that there was any end to it. Wolfram had hoped that, at some point, they would reach a burnt-out area and would be able to rest. Yet, the strong winds raging above the forest continued to feed the fire without end. Wolfram soon realized that he had overestimated his strength. He was already tired, and the men were hardly able to keep up with him. There was no way that only six of them would put out the fire in the entire forest. The wind was getting even stronger, blowing on the still glowing embers that Wolfram and his men left in their wake. Now there was a danger of the embers rekindling. 

Wolfram came to the conclusion that he wasn’t able to ensure his men’s safety. Retreat was the only plausible action under current circumstances. 

Relief could be seen on the exhausted men’s faces when he had given the order to fall back. Wolfram, however, was discontent as they had wasted so much energy and time for nothing. He wished for the damn rain to finally start instead of the skies banging about impotently.

For reasons no other but pure spite and frustration Wolfram summoned his fire element again. He sent it forward, high over the forest, tracing and embracing all the flame he was able to sense. He tried to overpower and quench it just like before, but he had bitten off far more than he was able to chew. Cursing, his displeasure and anger skyrocketing, he pulled back. Or tried to. The fire didn’t let go. Then, Wolfram tried to sever the connection with his element. That didn’t work either. The wildfire was feeding his element, making the element flow too powerful for him to handle. He could tell that, in no time, it was going to slip out of his control entirely. Once that happened, his own fire element would consume him.

“Sir, are you alright?”

His anxiety and desperation must have clearly shown on his face. Wolfram turned to them. There was absolutely nothing any of them could help him with.

“I’m fine,” Wolfram answered, attempting to sound natural. “Go back to the edge of the forest and stay there until further notice.”

The men stared at the blond for a couple of seconds, then one of Wolfram’s bodyguards turned to the earth-wielder from the town. “Go get His Majesty or von Voltaire. Actually, all of you,” he ordered the other civilians in a moment, “return to the town and bring them here.”

It took only a couple of seconds for the three men to disappear among the charred trees. The smoke swallowed them as if they had never been there. The two bodyguards stayed with von Bielefeld. Wolfram would have gladly repeated his order, but it was clear that it would be disobeyed again. In all honesty, he had neither strength nor wish to argue over a lost cause. His concentration was on his rampant fire element. He had tried to sever the connection over and over but it was like trying to stop the flow of a waterfall with a toothpick.

“Why doesn’t it fucking rain?!” Wolfram spat out, his forehead wet and his eyes bulging with the effort. His head felt as if it was about to explode. Rain or the end of fire were his only saving options. None of them seemed to be possible.

Gasping for air, Wolfram leaned against one of the trees around him. His bodyguards rushed over to him.

“Sir?”

“Sir, are you…?”

Wolfram barely heard him, his ears filled with hissing and thumping sounds of his element and his own frantic heartbeat. It hurt to breathe. His lungs and throat were aching. The most vexing thing was that he had done this to himself. It was perhaps the most stupid thing he had ever done.

Then suddenly it was all gone, the pressure, the element, the link, the danger. 

Wheezing, Wolfram dropped to his knees. His throat still hurt and it was difficult to breathe. He was, however, so relieved that all he wanted now was to curl up into a ball on this burnt ground and fall asleep forever.

“Wolfram!”

The blond turned his head towards the source of the noise. Through his running eyes he could see that Yuuri was off his horse, rushing to him.

“Cut…off?” Wolfram coughed out. His head was spinning. “Why did you…here?”

“You can thank me later,” the king snapped at him, pulling at the scarf on the blond’s mouth. It was tied firmly, and he tugged with more force, finally managing to hoist and pull it over Wolfram’s head. “What the fuck were you thinking?!”

Von Bielefeld stared at him for a moment or two then his strength left him completely and he keeled over into the ash and soot-covered ground, face-first. 

“Wolfram!”

Yuuri grabbed the half-conscious blond by his arm and collar and rolled him over. Relieved, he saw Wolfram breathing. His unfocused eyes, however, were expressionlessly blinking at the smoky sky.

Behind them, Gwendal cleared his throat. “He’s fine, Your Majesty, just exhausted. On the other hand… Your Majesty, what about the fire?”

“Yes, yes, in a moment.”

The king summoned his water element and, using the excess dampness in the heavy clouds, started showering the forest with rain. He kept it up for a good ten minutes to make certain the fire was completely extinguished. 

Von Voltaire watched the king touching his brother’s face unconsciously. It was an awkward attempt at reassurance. Or maybe Shibuya was just trying to wipe off the soot. But it also looked as if he was petting an unruly dog. Whatever the oblivious action was, it tugged at von Voltaire’s heart, and he couldn’t help smiling.

TBC


	55. Part 55

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Kyou Kara Maou! – It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I’m not making any money from writing it.  
> Warnings: yaoi (male x male), violence, swearing, angst, drama. Wolfram-centric, out of character, original character.  
> Summary: With Yuuri’s upcoming birthday, Wolfram makes his decision. Where will it lead him and what is to become of them? Should eventually be Yuuri x Wolfram.  
> A/N 1: Yuuri – 18 years old. Wolfram – 21. Eldara – 32. Halea – 20. Athara – 18. Gwendal – 54.  
> A/N 2: Greta doesn’t exist.  
> A/N 3: European/American/Japanese standards all at once depending on the plot requirements.  
> A/N 4: A tendency to ignore the anime/manga and supplement the story with my own imagined facts.   
> A/N 5: Season III is not taken into consideration, except for the fact that Wolfram’s uncle exists.  
> A/N 6: The umlaut in Gunter’s name is a bother.

**Bloom**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Anonymously Awesome

Part 55

It took some time for Wolfram to regain his senses. Once he did, he saw that Yuuri knelt right in front of him, holding his upper body in his lap. The kindness in the king’s eyes made Wolfram’s stomach clench. Those dark, almost black eyes were looking at him with gentle kindness that engulfed his whole being. Yuuri had always been kind, too kind and yet, Wolfram had always wished to have all of that kindness for himself. Von Bielefeld suddenly felt so moved that his lips started moving of their own.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. So very, very sorry.”

The kindness in the king’s eyes was momentarily replaced by something much, much darker. 

“Are you completely out of your mind?” he hissed at the blond’s face. “You nearly died! How stupid of you! Can’t you ever back down?! Would it kill you to admit that you just can’t do something? Would it? Where will your pride be once you’re dead, you idiot?”

Wolfram was able to tell that the king was clearly agitated and incredibly angry but he wasn’t able to differentiate the words, thus the important message was lost on him. The sound that was reaching his eardrums was booming as if he were under water. He could only hear some kind of ringing and his own heartbeat. His thoughts felt heavy and disjointed but, at the same time, effortless, appearing and then sinking again, somewhere behind the horizon. 

Oh right. The forest fire.

Von Bielefeld cast his eyes over the king’s shoulder. Civilians and soldiers were milling about, several horses tied to nearby trees. His two bodyguards were farther away, talking to Gwendal. The fire seemed to have been put out.

“You stupid fool! Next time you do something like this, I’ll sever your contract with your element forever!”

Shibuya was obviously threatening him with something, but Wolfram wasn’t able to tell what it was. It didn’t seem like he was very serious either as his face was covered with soot and his eyes were teary. Was it because of smoke or had he been worried about him so much?

“I can’t hear you, you idiot,” Wolfram muttered. “So you can just shut up and kiss me instead.”

For a couple of seconds, Yuuri stared at the blond suspiciously. Then, having decided that opportunities like this were rare, kissed him. Wolfram’s tongue met his enthusiastically, and Yuuri felt his arms on the back of his head and shoulders. This was better than any happy ending he had ever seen in an action film or had imagined in his wildest dreams. He was really getting into it when, suddenly, the blond’s body went lax. Yuuri pulled away to look at his face. He was unconscious.

“Wolfram? No! No, no, no!” Yuuri panicked, shaking the unresponsive body. “Don’t you dare die on me!” It was just like Wolfram to choose to die so dramatically. “Wolfram, no!”

Gwendal’s palm pressed down on the king’s shoulder firmly. “Calm down, Your Majesty. He needs rest.” With a shrug, he took off his cloak and, in one smooth motion, spread it next to Shibuya. “Lay him here and let him sleep for a couple of hours.” He barely resisted a chuckle that rose in his throat at the look on the king’s face. “He is not going to die just because of some smoke and fire. He’s just exhausted and needs rest.”

“Oh.”

Von Voltaire watched Yuuri moving Wolfram onto one side of the cloak and covering him with the other. The king seemed to be enjoying this opportunity to take care of his brother. Gwendal sensed that he and the rest of men were intruding on the idyllic scene.

“We’ll return to the castle, Your Majesty,” he said in a moment.

The king gave him an uncertain look then cast his eyes towards the sky and then at Wolfram. “It’s going to rain soon.”

Gwendal’s eyebrows rose. “And is that a problem, Your Majesty?”

“Ehh…no. I suppose it is not.”

Von Voltaire inclined his head and went to get his horse. “Sazil and Ermin, you’re staying behind with His Majesty,” he said while saddling his horse. “The rest will return to the castle with me.”

“Yes, Sir.”

The party moved out. Over his shoulder, von Voltaire stole a glance back at the couple under the charred trees. He had his doubts about Wolfram remembering any of this – he was obviously in shock. Then again, Shibuya would make sure to remind him.

_ _ _

It was raining when Wolfram opened his eyes. No, not exactly. It was raining but not raining. Confused, he sat up. He was on a blanket. No, it was Gwendal’s cloak – it was permeated with his brother’s scent. Then he saw the source of his confusion. The king was sitting farther away, under another tree, staring off into the forest. Both of them were surrounded by some kind of air bubble which was free of rain. Wolfram looked up at the sky. It was weird to see all the water flowing over invisible ceilings and walls in rivulets and cascading down into the ground.

Wolfram coughed, and Yuuri turned to him.

“Where are your bodyguards?”

His voice came out in a whisper and resulted in even more coughing.

“Don’t talk,” Yuuri said approaching him. He motioned behind Wolfram, and the blond turned his head to see two soldiers leaning against trees. “How are you feeling?”

Wolfram was giving him a confused look, and Yuuri kneeled next to him, worried. “Can you hear me?”

“Mmm? Yes, I can. Why are we here? In the forest? Where are the others?”

“Oh, that. Gwendal decided that it would be wiser to let you rest instead of transporting you home right away.”

“He did?” Wolfram wondered. “Really? And you?”

“I agreed with him.”

Wolfram rolled his eyes. “Are you my nurse?”

“Well, technically yes. I cast some healing spells on you as your throat and lungs had been damaged. The spells seem to be working too.”

Wolfram nodded. “Gisela said that your spells are quite effective.”

“So how do you feel?” Yuuri asked again.

“I feel well-cooked, as you might presume. But I’m fine, just tired.”

“Want to sleep some more?”

“No, I’ll do that at home.” He lifted his arm. “Help me up.”

Yuuri pulled the blond up to his feet. Wolfram felt a little lightheaded, swayed and backed away to lean against the tree behind him. The king reached out for him, but Wolfram made a gesture of refusal with his hand to decline his help.

“I’ll be fine in a moment.”

“Let’s just stay here a bit longer,” Yuuri said, sitting down on the cloak. “There’s no need to rush.”

A few moments later Wolfram joined him on the cloak.

“You kissed me, remember? This was the second time, I believe.”

Wolfram had hoped that that mindless impulse had been forgotten by both of them. “Well…” he muttered, “technically, it was still you who kissed me.”

“But you invited it. Both times.”

“I don’t remember.”

Yuuri shifted on the cloak. He hated how the blond was stubbornly trying to deny everything and anything. This was already beyond childish. “Wolfram, I won’t back down because it’s obvious that you don’t want me to back down.”

The blond closed his eyes and sighed. “You piss me off.”

“I know, but apparently that doesn’t prevent you from flirting with me.”

Wolfram opened his eyes to glare at him. “You piss me off a whole lot!”

“I’ll kiss you now.”

“Don’t you dare, you pretentious asshole!”

“Alright, maybe when you’re in a better mood, then.”

_ _ _

Von Voltaire was in a strange mood. Eldara rose from the chaise longue he had been reading on and went to pour himself a glass of water. Without asking, he poured one for Gwendal as well. Gwendal took it with a murmur of thanks. Leaving von Voltaire sitting at the table, he went to look at the yard through the window.

Wolfram half-rode and was half-transported to the castle two hours ago. His condition wasn’t serious and, after having looked at him, the healer prescribed only one type of medicine – to stay in bed and rest until he felt better. Gwendal didn’t appear to be worried about his brother either. ‘Ha, serves him right,’ was all he had said upon having entered his chambers. Strangely, he seemed to be more content than usual as well.

Eldara was restless. Von Voltaire’s unexplainable, good mood annoyed him. The duke had expected the other man to start feeling some kind of attachment towards him, which in turn, would cause some feelings of remorse about the tragic end of their relationship. He was leaving tomorrow after all! Instead of the expected sadness, von Voltaire was feeling exceedingly content.

“Screw you,” Eldara muttered under his breath.

“Mm?”

Just as that of most purebloods’, Gwendal’s hearing was superb.

“Screw you!” Eldara snapped. He lowered his glass onto the windowsill with a thump and turned around.

Von Voltaire’s eyebrows rose. “Is that a curse or a wish?”

Eldara glared. “Pick the one you like better.”

Gwendal chuckled. “Losing control, aren’t we?” He pushed his chair away and stood up. “I do like it when you’re honest.”

The duke snorted angrily. “The problem is that it’s you who never is!”

Gwendal shrugged. He wasn’t, that was true. But was that a problem? He approached the duke. Over Eldara’s shoulder, he cast a look over the yard to make certain that there weren’t any curious spectators around.

“I’m not very keen on being added to your toy box.”

Eldara stared at him. “Hah?”

His indignation and anger were showing on his face, but Gwendal shook his head, not buying it. “You collect toys, don’t you? Von Sedera, Wolfram. Probably dozens of others.”

Momentarily, the anger on Eldara’s face was replaced by disbelief. “Are you jealous? Really? You don’t even believe the words you’re spewing.”

Von Voltaire’s eyes widened. Maybe that was really all what it was: anger, mistrust, jealousy. He suddenly felt confused and embarrassed. 

Gwendal was silent. Denying Eldara’s words would have made the atmosphere even less bearable. Von Sedera and even Wolfram were grown men who didn’t mind much if Eldara played with them a little. In turn, they probably toyed with Eldara as well. And, in general, flirting and sex took two. Or three. Or four. Maybe this was exactly what he was angry about, just as Eldara had said.

“So you don’t like me putting you on the same level as Wolfram or von Sedera?” the duke wondered.

Gwendal left the window and returned to sit at the table. He hoped that the duke wasn’t able to tell how embarrassed he was.

“I am not,” the duke continued as von Voltaire said nothing. “Wolfram is out of the picture and you know that. Von Sedera…well, he’s a convenient…”

“...fuck?”

“Well, yes,” Eldara agreed. “Don’t you have someone like that as well?”

“I don’t.”

“Really? And here I thought it was only your incredible discretion.”

“You mean your sources turned up blank concerning my sex life?”

“Yes. And now it appears it was really nonexistent.”

“Yes, you broke the dry spell. Let’s rejoice.”

Eldara rolled his eyes. “Was it really worth it, I wonder?” he muttered angrily.

“In any case,” Gwendal said. “I don’t see any sense in this conversation. You’re leaving tomorrow. That’s it.”

“And we are back to square one.”

“I don’t understand what you want from me.”

“Will you stop pretending to be an idiot? I want you to admit that you like me enough to tell me that.”

“What will that change?”

“Something, obviously, otherwise you wouldn’t be so reluctant to say it.”

Von Voltaire’s lips curled up into a snarl. Then his face smoothed out. “Alright,” he said, but the word sounded like a dare. “I do like you and I don’t want you to leave.” He gave the duke a look. “Not yet.”

Eldara shook his head. “‘Not yet’,” he repeated with a sigh. “Well, I suppose it’s the best you can do.” He pushed the table away from von Voltaire to make himself some room and straddled him on the chair. “Was it really so difficult?”

“Yes!” von Voltaire spat angrily. He refused to look at the duke’s face and stared at his chest instead. His anger was short-lived, though. Under the duke’s scrutinizing eyes his face was turning redder and redder.

Eldara chuckled. “Your effort deserves a reward, then.” He leaned down to issue a kiss. Gwendal’s lips parted readily, and their tongues locked in lewd play. The older man’s hands slid down his back to palm Eldara’s buttocks, and the duke let out a content sigh. It was swallowed by Gwendal. He kneaded the cheeks in his hands then slipped his left in between them to seize Eldara through his trousers.

“Get them off,” he muttered, pulling his mouth away. He bit Eldara’s neck, and the duke gasped, his body going rigid. The bite was measured, without breaking the skin, just making certain to entice the other man and make him obey.

Eldara wiggled out of his lap quickly and started unbuckling his belt. Gwendal started working on his own. His dick sprung up from his underwear, hard and ready to go. Before pulling his trousers down the duke pulled out a small, oval container and squeezed it into Gwendal’s palm. It was familiar to von Voltaire, who opened it without any struggle. He scooped up some of the tacky mass from the bottom. He could already feel it reacting to the warmth of his fingers, liquefying and turning glossy. He lowered the container on the table while his other hand was already slicking his cock down with the lubricant. 

The duke meanwhile got his boots, trousers and underwear off. He shrugged his jacket off as well and tossed it onto one of the free chairs at the table. The sight of von Voltaire stroking his cock was making his own throb and without waiting another moment, he straddled him again.

“Need help?” Gwendal asked while wishing nothing else but to ram into his ass.

“A little,” Eldara said, raising himself up and leaning forward. The same slick fingers that had been stroking a cock seconds ago, slipped up his ass. For several seconds they rubbed and scissored about to let him get used to the feeling and size of the incoming penetration then were abruptly gone. Then Gwendal was pushing him down, guiding his cock into him.

Trying to relax, Eldara exhaled loudly while it slid into him. He wasn’t really ready yet but this time they were doing this without a condom and it felt slicker and smoother than usual.

“Go slower,” he gasped out when the other man tried to just jab into him forcefully while pushing his hips up. “Let me.” He shifted, making himself more room in von Voltaire’s iron grip. A slight change in the position and him arching his back brought the desirable result and von Voltaire’s cock disappeared inside him completely.

Eldara waited a little before raising himself up. With the first few ups and downs he measured how far he could rise without the cock slipping out of him completely then established some sort of a rhythm.

Gwendal watched Eldara fuck himself on his cock. His dick felt amazing even though the position prevented deep penetration. Half of his cock didn’t reach up into Eldara’s ass. Maybe it was alright as Eldara might have chosen this position on purpose. They had been having anal sex every day and sometimes even several times a day. That couldn’t be good for the duke’s health. So much anal sex had to have some undesirable consequences. For now, though, it seemed that Eldara enjoyed this as much as he did, and Gwendal had no wish to dwell on this while it felt so great.

Eldara’s dick was bobbing up and down with his movements. Gwendal wasn’t able to resist the temptation and wrapped his fingers around it to stroke it.

However, it soon became apparent to Gwendal that the position wasn’t comfortable for Eldara either and that he wasn’t getting as much cock as he would have liked. His hands slid lower, under the duke’s buttocks and he lifted the man up. His cock slipped out and, surprised, Eldara grabbed at his shoulders for support. His feet didn’t reach the floor but before he could try and get his footing, Gwendal lifted him even higher and planted him onto the table with a soft thud. Then he hooked his hands under Eldara’s knees and lifted his legs up, forcing him to lie down on his back. He couldn’t help grinning at the look on Eldara’s face.

“Really? In this position?”

“Or you can climb off and turn around?”

“I would rather give your table a permanent mark.”

Indeed, now every time Gwendal sat down at the table, he would probably remember this moment. The idea made him chuckle. He guided himself back into the duke. After a few thrusts, he pulled the other man towards himself so that his lower back slid off the table and his ass was in the air, bracing against Gwendal’s hips. Gwendal held him up, leaned forward and hooked Eldara’s knees on his shoulders. His balls came flush against Eldara’s backside. The new position would satisfy them both.

Gwendal rolled his hips slowly at first to let the other man feel all of his length. Then he set a leisurely pace bent on bringing the previous pleasure and tension back. He upped it soon, and Eldara braced against the table as best as he could while trying to come up with a way of keeping his back from sliding over it.

“Take your shirt off,” Gwendal said, slowing down.

Eldara hurriedly got out of his shirt and indeed, his damp, sweaty skin stuck to the table surface as if glued on. Gwendal resumed the previous pace but with more force. The duke hummed in pleasure. His ass felt incredible. Gwendal’s cock was jabbing in and out almost forcefully even though his sphincter muscles were completely relaxed. They probably needed to apply more lubricant, but Eldara’s mind was blank. He was about to come. Gwendal wasn’t going to last any longer either. 

“Shit,” Eldara groaned at a few well-placed thrusts. They made his teeth jar in pleasure.

“Yes, I’ll fuck all shit out of you,” Gwendal promised through clenched teeth.

Eldara’s cock was leaking profusely, and Gwendal grabbed it to stroke. He could barely hold on and wished for Eldara to come at once. 

It only took a few pumps of his fist, and Gwendal felt Eldara tightening around himself. He came without any oral warning, his body seizing up with his back rising a little off the table top, his anus constricting around Gwendal’s cock so hard that he had to stop thrusting or he would risk injuring them both.

A moment later, Eldara’s body started relaxing, his face acquiring a more sensible look.

“I’m stuck,” Gwendal informed him with a helpless huff.

Gwendal looked desperate and frustrated. The duke found that he loved that look. “How about you sing me a song to relax?”

“How about you do some arithmetic in your head? Twenty-five multiplied by sixteen?”

“You can just stay stuck.”

It took a couple of moments and Eldara loosened up. Gwendal pulled out, hesitated, then took the jar from the table and scooped up some more of the mass. While coating his cock with it he kept watch on Eldara, but the duke wasn’t planning on going anywhere. He actually lifted his ass invitingly. Gwendal sank back into it, grateful. He lasted a whole of six thrusts then was barely in time to pull out and came all over Eldara’s thighs and stomach.

Spent, he pushed Eldara’s legs off his shoulders and dropped back into the chair behind himself.

“Good, wasn’t it?” Eldara grunted out, lowering his feet to the floor. Gwendal gave him a satisfied look, and he couldn’t help laughing at the way the older male was sprawled over the chair, his softening dick hanging out. Gwendal looked content beyond words.

Gwendal’s eyes followed Eldara while he was dressing then he followed the duke’s example: tucked himself back into his trousers, buttoned them and looped the belt.

_ _ _

“And how is our damsel in distress doing?” Eldara asked while entering von Bielefeld’s bedroom.

Wolfram didn’t look the least bit annoyed. “I know it’s hard to believe but I am not doing this on purpose,” he said.

“Yes,” Eldara drawled. “I must admit I am having my own suspicions. What is it about you and knights in shining armor rescuing you? Pardon me, ‘kings’.”

“Oh, shut up.”

Eldara grinned at the blond. Wolfram noticed that the duke appeared to be perky, content, which, keeping in mind his recently solemn moods, was suspicious. When the older man sat down on the chair near his bed, Wolfram’s nose caught the smell wafting from him – sex. To be more precise, it was sex with Gwendal. That wasn’t anything new in itself. What was new, was the scent of fulfillment that was oozing out of Eldara’s every pore.

“What happened?” Wolfram asked. To his own surprise he found that his voice sounded rather rough and aggressive.

Eldara beamed at him. “He asked me to stay.”

Wolfram’s brow rose in surprise; Gwendal was in trouble. “Will you?”

“Of course, not.”

Wolfram sighed. “Oh, Eldara… You bastard…”

“Well, there’s really nothing either of us can do to change the final outcome.”

“So you’re leaving tomorrow?”

Eldara shook his head. “No, the departure has been postponed till Thursday.” He shook his head again as Wolfram’s facial expression showed that he had misunderstood. “Oh no, it’s due to the bad weather and the possible storm.”

“You do realize that you’re behaving like an unprincipled slut?”

“And that’s wrong because…?”

Wolfram rolled his eyes. Then his face became more somber. “It’s wrong because if you break his heart, I’ll break your nose.”

Eldara opened his mouth but then, after a short thought, closed it. He actually did believe that Wolfram would do it. Would just come after him to Kardera and punch him right in the face. “I hope you won’t,” he said finally. “Not that I’m planning to or anything.”

“He’s not just some random fuck.”

“Oh, Wolfram, give me some credit – I wouldn’t have bothered myself so much with some random fuck.” Eldara gave him a curious look. “Would you prefer him breaking my heart instead?”

“Yes.”

“How unfair.”

“I don’t think you’ve ever had your heart broken. It would do you some good…would probably cure you of your stupid games.”

“I think it would make me even more cynical.”

“Perhaps.”

“This conversation is making me feel unpleasant. Let’s switch topics. How are you feeling?”

Wolfram thought for a moment. “All things considered, I’m fine,” he said, albeit uncertainly. The duke gave him a questioning look, and Wolfram shrugged awkwardly. He was tired. He had had a long nap after he had been brought in back in the castle but he still felt exhausted. He hoped he would feel better after a good night’s sleep. There were some things though, that a good night’s sleep wouldn’t be able to fix.

TBC


	56. Part 56

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Kyou Kara Maou! – It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I’m not making any money from writing it.  
> Warnings: yaoi (male x male), violence, swearing, angst, drama. Wolfram-centric, out of character, original character.  
> Summary: With Yuuri’s upcoming birthday, Wolfram makes his decision. Where will it lead him and what is to become of them? Should eventually be Yuuri x Wolfram.  
> A/N 1: Yuuri – 18 years old. Wolfram – 21. Eldara – 32. Halea – 20. Athara – 18. Gwendal – 54.  
> A/N 2: Greta doesn’t exist.  
> A/N 3: European/American/Japanese standards all at once depending on the plot requirements.  
> A/N 4: A tendency to ignore the anime/manga and supplement the story with my own imagined facts.   
> A/N 5: Season III is not taken into consideration, except for the fact that Wolfram’s uncle exists.  
> A/N 6: The umlaut in Gunter’s name is a bother.

**Bloom**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com)

Part 56

Yozak was gathering his clothes from the floor. Karela watched him walking about the room. It was Conrart’s unused room in the castle. Karela wondered if Yozak knew that he knew. He probably did. It wasn’t difficult to guess why Yozak had brought him to Conrart’s bed.

“You’re an idiot.”

Surprised, Yozak turned around; Karela didn’t normally fling similar opinions around.

“And a fine morning to you too.”

“I hope Conrart agrees to go with me to Kardera.”

Yozak snorted. “Fuck you.” He reached out for his socks then his hand faltered, and his head snapped up to face Karela again. “What the fuck is wrong with you all?! Why is he being so victimized, and I have suddenly turned into a bad guy?” He showed his arm, which was still in a sling. “I’m the victim here! He knew the rules beforehand! And now he suddenly plays the wronged lover! As if that’s not enough, everyone suddenly starts tiptoeing around him! Even you! Why? Why is it that no one is asking how I feel?”

“Because everyone knows how you feel!” Karela snorted, rolling his eyes. “These past few days you have done nothing but whine about how wronged you feel. But you know what? No one gives a damn about how you feel because it’s obvious to everyone that you’ve brought this upon yourself on your own!”

Yozak was angrily buttoning his jacket. His jaw was clenched so as not to spill more of what he felt. Besides his anger towards Conrart, he, in fact, felt helpless. He knew that Karela was right. The problem was his inability to set things right. When it concerned Conrart, he just wasn’t able to do anything right.

“I know you’ve been after him since you laid your eyes on him.”

Karela let out a bitter laugh. “Here we go again.” He snorted. “You can think about what a fucking idiot you are while I’ll be fucking him.”

“Don’t you dare!”

“Oh, Yozak. You either want him or you don’t. You’ve got only a couple of days to decide on which it is.”

_ _ _

Yuuri appraised himself in the mirror. He had never been very interested in his appearance. Instead, he had always been proud of himself for having saved his parents’ money by not blindly following the latest fashion trends. Or, rather, any fashion at all. His attire used to mostly consist of Shori’s outgrown clothes and, gods bless whoever had come up with it, the universal school uniform.

Nowadays, as a king, he still wore his high school uniform or one of its many variations. The black garment had become his trademark outfit in Shin Makoku and the surrounding territories, thus he continued to wear it. His wardrobe mostly consisted of these black uniforms. However, they had been modified a little to suit his tastes and status. The jackets were longer, embroidered; the buttons silver or gold. He found it amusing but as he was used to them and they were comfortable, he had no reason to go against everyone’s expectations. Recently though, as was always the case when start of the warmer seasons came about, he started questioning the sensibility of always wearing black. Besides, he had noticed that his black attire had no impact on Wolfram.

Yuuri shrugged his black jacket off and took a look at himself while only wearing a shirt. There was hardly any difference since the shirt was also black. Frowning, the king lifted and bent his arm. While feeling his biceps underneath the sleeve, he came to the conclusion that, despite vigorous sword training and riding, he didn’t appear to have grown any additional muscle mass. While Wolfram looked like a grown man, he himself was still stuck in a lanky body of a teenager.

“Shall I wear something different today?” Yuuri wondered.

Conrart, who had been watching him from further away, threw a look at the king’s wardrobe. “Emm…” he drawled while his eyes were scanning the dozens of black clothes in it. “I doubt it would make much difference, Your Majesty…”

“Indeed,” Yuuri grumbled, throwing his black jacket back on. He glared at his reflection in the mirror. “Do you know what color is Wolfram’s favorite?”

“I’m not sure he has one, Your Majesty,” Conrart said carefully. “Perhaps blue. However, I would advise against sending him any more gifts. I’m afraid that they would only make him angry.”

Yuuri shook his head. “No, it’s not about gifts.” 

Through the mirror, he stared at Conrart’s reflection. Conrart had sought him out so early in the morning with the desire to talk to him. Yuuri knew what he was going to say since he had already discussed most of the details of his departure with Gwendal.

“I thought two men had it easier.”

Conrart gave the king a confused look. “Your Majesty?”

“Relationships between men. I thought they were supposed to be easier.”

Conrart didn’t want to get involved in a discussion where he would be forced to take sides. If at first he had always done his best to support Yuuri, now he wanted to stay neutral. The king, however, was giving him a questioning look, compelling him to answer.

“Mm… If one is looking for a nightstand, then probably yes. Being in love, however… I think it’s messy no matter who is involved.”

“Is this why Yozak is being so messy?”

The unexpected question made Conrart wince. His face reddened both in embarrassment and anger. “He’s not being messy. He’s being a retarded horseshoe.”

Yuuri couldn’t help chuckling. He motioned at the table. “Let’s take a seat.”

Conrart nodded and quickly walked over to seat himself on the opposite side of the king, who was still standing. “Thank You, Your Majesty.”

Yuuri seated himself as well. “Shall I fine you a silver every time you call me that?”

A restrained smile flitted over Conrart’s face. “I don’t earn so much, Your Majesty, to be entering such an agreement.”

“That’s the whole point of it, Conrad,” Yuuri said, giving him a serious look, which made Conrart’s smile disappear. “You are one of my closest friends, not a mere bodyguard. You and, let’s be honest, Gwendal, are always trying to keep your distance from me. You probably think that you’re doing it for my sake. Nonsense. What I need most are friends. And yet, as I said, for some reason everyone thinks that putting me on a pedestal and staring at me from afar makes me happy. It does not. It makes me lonely.”

Conrart listened to this complain and plea silently. He had often felt guilty for treating Yuuri familiarly. Of course, he had always known that Yuuri longed for a closer relationship yet it felt wrong. He thought he had no right to bask in the king’s exclusive affection or receive special treatment. He had also wanted Yuuri to be free of any influence.

“I’m sorry.”

Apparently that was all Conrart had to say to him concerning his request, and Yuuri sighed regretfully. 

“What was it that you wanted to tell me?” he asked.

“Mm… Yes. I’m leaving tomorrow for Wiederhaal but…mm…” Conrart trailed off. This had sounded much better in his head. Once uttered, it was going to embarrass him.

“…But everyone, especially Yozak, is supposed to think that you’re going to Kardera,” Yuuri finished for him.

“Errm… Yes.”

Yuuri gave him a look, and Conrart lowered his eyes to stare at the white as snow tablecloth.

“I’m having a hard time believing that he’ll buy it,” Yuuri said. He shrugged. “But it’s up to you. Personally, I think that there’s quite an unhealthy trait of running away amongst the men of your family.”

Conrart offered the table cloth a wide smile. “Indeed. Quite cowardly, isn’t it?”

Yuuri shrugged again. Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t. He had no right to judge. It was a coping mechanism and, considering how well it had worked out for Wolfram, not a bad one.

“I want to apologize that I won’t be by your side as I have promised.”

Yuuri waved his hand dismissively. “It’s fine. We are still in peaceful times and there’s no danger to me at all. Besides, it’s only temporarily. I’d say to treat it as a vacation, but it will obviously be far from that.” 

Conrart nodded.

“Let’s go for a spar after breakfast. I’ll be missing those. Gwendal is way too strict. I end up with bruises all over my body.”

“You can always ask Wolfram,” Conrart suggested.

“I have a feeling that he would reject the idea.”

“I doubt it. But you might end up with even more bruises.”

“Mm…maybe not quite yet as he hadn’t fully recovered.”

Conrart chuckled. He doubted it would make any difference.

In fact, Conrart had no idea how Wolfram would react. To be honest, he was relieved that this, for now, was the last spar with the king. Erections was quite a common thing during training and spars as the adrenaline, excitement and bodily contact made men react. Recently however, Shibuya had beaten all records. It was easy to understand the reason behind it, but that didn’t make the atmosphere any less awkward. They didn’t talk about it. Actually, they always pretended that nothing happened, but it was there – the elephant in the room.

_ _ _

 

The yard was full of men who were getting ready to travel to the port. A two days’ journey awaited them. The duke was already in the carriage, discontent that he was being made to wait.

Finally, everyone was ready, and the party moved out. From his spot near the barracks, Yozak watched the soldiers file through the gate. They were too far away for him to distinguish Conrart’s face, but Yozak thought that he could recognize his figure amongst others – there was a certain slouch to the man’s shoulders that usually indicated that he was under stress. 

Yozak watched the party until Conrart and the three other soldiers from the Allied Forces had passed the gate. Cursing under his breath, he turned around and headed for the barracks. He knew that Conrart wasn’t going to Kardera. All of them were taking him for a fool. Yozak didn’t know where Conrart was going but it definitely wasn’t Kardera.

Yozak wasn’t certain how he felt about this misleading show. He was amused, but he was more upset than amused. He was angry too, with both himself and Conrart. It was him who had driven Conrart to this cowardly escape. The man hadn’t even managed to break up with him face to face. Indeed, this was what von Bielefeld had been trying to tell him – this time he had driven Conrart into a corner. He had driven himself into a corner as well. If only they could share a corner and stay in it together.

With a shake of his head Yozak entered the barracks. If Conrart expected him to chase after him, he was wrong. It was all over. And it was for the best.

_ _ _

And this was the end of the stupid affair. With a troubled sigh, Eldara leaned back into his seat and drew the curtains over the carriage window. He should have used the opportunity and enjoyed the view of passing streets, houses and people since later there would be nothing to look at, only trees, trees and some more trees. But he didn’t feel like it at all.

The duke still didn’t quite understand what he had expected to come out from his and von Voltaire’s relationship. It had to have been something huge since even now he was half-expecting von Voltaire to chase after him, to stop the carriage, throw the door open and…possibly propose to him and then fuck his brains out. He wouldn’t even care if all of that happened in a different order.

Well, one could always dream.

Eldara sighed again. If only it were that easy. In the end, both himself and von Voltaire were relieved by his departure. Now, all they had left were bittersweet memories. More bitter than sweet, in fact.

**oOoOo_Several Days Later_oOoOo**

Yuuri’s mind still wasn’t set, but there was no time to lose. Still, several more seconds passed as he continued to stare at the door leading to the royal baths. Finally, he steeled himself and pushed it open. Just as he had hoped and planned, Wolfram was alone. At some point it was Conrart who used to help him bathe, but now the blond was well enough to do it on his own.

The king closed the door softly and headed towards the bench where Wolfram was sitting. It was warm in the baths, the hot vapor spreading all over the chamber. It was half-light, with only a few oil lamps hanging from the ceiling and on the walls. Wolfram was sitting with his back to the door and Yuuri had wanted to surprise him, but the blond had felt his presence before he approached. He turned around, alert, but at the sight of Yuuri, his shoulders relaxed. He gave the king a curious look and nodded in acknowledgement. 

Yuuri was wearing his usual black garments. His fingers clumsily tumbled through the buttonholes while he shed his jacket and shirt. Wolfram didn’t even bother pretending not to stare and Yuuri nearly fell over while taking his trousers off. He hobbled around on one leg then finally got rid of them. He arranged his clothes on a nearby bench. With only a short towel wrapped around his midsection, he went to get one of the large bowls that were propped against the stony wall near the entrance. Then he approached Wolfram, who was washing himself with a sponge. The king put his bowl down and poured in some hot and then cold water until he got the temperature right. He seated himself next to the blond. He soon figured out that he had forgotten a sponge and soap and had to get up again. 

“Um. Want me to wash your back?”

Wolfram gave him another curious look. He had finished washing and was certain that Yuuri could see the soapy suds covering him. What he needed now was a good rinse and he would be done.

“Sure.”

It took a few moments for Wolfram’s brain to register his positive answer. Yuuri, however, had accepted it at once and tugged at the sponge in the blond’s hand. Wolfram didn’t let go, and Yuuri gave him a confused look. With a low chuckle, Wolfram pushed it into the younger man’s hands. What he needed was a good rinse, but what he wanted was a good fuck. It was as simple as that.

Yuuri lathered up the sponge and pressed it to Wolfram’s back. He felt awkward while brushing with it over the blond’s neck and shoulders. It was uncomfortably quiet in the baths the only the sounds being those of the wet sponge sliding over Wolfram’s skin. It had seemed so natural when Wolfram used to offer to wash his back for him. Now, Yuuri wondered what kinds of thoughts used to go through the blond’s head back then. They had probably been about the same as his.

“Thanks,” Wolfram said when Yuuri had pressed the sponge back into his hand. Their fingers touched, and he looked up. Yuuri, though, was already reaching for a pitcher and, without a word of warning, doused him with water from his own bowl. Wolfram sputtered and rubbed at his eyes. “Hey!”

From behind, Yuuri pressed his cheek to Wolfram’s. He could feel him tense up but the blond didn’t move away. He turned his head and pressed his lips to Wolfram’s cheek then moved his mouth lower, along the column of his neck. He could feel the rigidity of the other man’s body. Yuuri could hear his breath quicken. Or maybe it was his own. Nibbling on the skin, he reached the dip between the neck and shoulder. He bit down lightly, and Wolfram moaned. The sound made the king’s eyes widen in surprise. Wolfram’s reaction pulled at his groin. 

Yuuri moved his mouth away and gave a soothing lick to where the light imprint of his teeth was visible. He inhaled loudly. His breath was coming out in short, excited puffs. He had never thought that he could ever be so overwhelmed by lust. It was even more incredible that he was reacting like this to a man. His whole body was tight like a spring. He pressed his nose to the blond’s shoulder and inhaled again. His sense of smell wasn’t as sharp as that of purebloods’ but he could smell soap and something that was purely Wolfram. The whiff tugged at his groin again, raising the towel even higher.

The king dropped the pitcher into the bowl and took a grasp of Wolfram’s wet shoulders. Leaning over the blond, he glanced down between his legs. Wolfram was just as hard, his towel tented as well.

Not managing to contain himself, Yuuri slid his hand into the blond’s hair and tugged his head sideways and up. Their eyes met and held for a few moments. The dazed look in the other male’s eyes made Yuuri grip his head firmer.

Wolfram didn’t resist when the king’s mouth covered his. It didn’t even occur to him to resist. Several minutes ago he had more or less decided to go with the flow and was now overwhelmed by another bout of Yuuri’s boldness. Yuuri, who used to flinch at his very touch, was about to lay him flat on the bench. It was a strange feeling. Yuuri was a little more competent than he remembered. He was obviously taking his kissing lessons seriously. Wolfram added more strength into the kiss.

Their position was uncomfortable, and Yuuri started pushing the blond down until he was almost lying along the bench, only his legs dangling over the edge. They stared at each other, their faces betraying their lust. Yuuri shoved at the blond’s chest and his back hit the planks. He leaned over him and brushed his towel upwards to get it out of the way. He was aware of Wolfram’s eyes following his every move. Wolfram still had doubts about him being able to have an intercourse with a man. Yuuri hadn’t been so certain either. Wolfram’s erection, however, didn’t do anything to make him feel less turned on. It was the opposite – the proof of the other man’s arousal was pleasing. More than that – it was fueling his own lust. 

Yuuri suddenly found himself thinking about von Ashira and Wolfram, about how they had sex, how von Ashira pleasured Wolfram. The image of the two fucking on the blond’s bed had been haunting him way too long. The thoughts both turned him on and made him incredibly jealous. He wrapped his hand around the blond’s cock. The smooth hardness, and the warmth of the skin reminded him of his own. He squeezed more firmly, and Wolfram shifted on the bench while giving him and uncertain and questioning look.

“Sorry,” Yuuri muttered, blushing; he had gotten too carried away.

Yuuri relaxed his grip a little bit and stroked a few times. His own penis was reacting to every stroke and the feeling in his hand. He could feel that his cheeks were burning but he was beyond embarrassment. If anything, the awkward shyness that he felt was making him reckless. It was mixed with lust and he wanted to explore, to feel more, to do more until Wolfram gave himself to him just as he had given himself to von Ashira. He wanted it, he wanted to fuck Wolfram. Now he realized it as clearly as never before.

Wolfram, meanwhile, wasn’t certain whether this was a dream or reality. Recently, he had been deprived of sex, which had made his imagination conjure several sexual fantasies involving himself and Yuuri. His thoughts had kept wandering in that direction whether he had wanted it to or not. 

The abstinence made Wolfram’s body respond more sensitively than usual and crave more of the younger male’s touch. The hungry look on Yuuri’s face made him breathless. Even in his wildest dreams he had never imagined Yuuri look at him like that. Yuuri wanted to fuck him, and the need was probably overwhelming. The king, though, obviously wasn’t certain how to accomplish that. Wolfram didn’t feel like helping him out. There was something in the back of his head nagging at him not to encourage Yuuri.

Wolfram was grunting softly with every up and down motion. He was obviously close now, and Yuuri upped the pace. He stared at the blond’s face, curious about his reactions, the sounds he was making. Wolfram wasn’t meeting his gaze, staring at the ceiling at first then, when he started really feeling it, closed his eyes. The blond neither encouraged him nor discouraged him, letting him do with his body what he wanted. Yuuri took that as a good sign, especially since his caresses were obviously receiving a positive feedback.

Wolfram came soundlessly, not managing to relax fully even for a second, always aware of the king’s presence, and, even more of his hand on his cock.

His palm was sticky and Yuuri slid off the bench to wash it off in the bowl. The most of the blond’s sperm had spurted out on his stomach and chest and now was glistening there in indecent puddles. With his hand, Yuuri brushed over the blond’s stomach to wipe it off but his attempt only smeared it all over his sides. Wolfram chuckled at the uncanny mess the king had made. The dark-haired male gave him a sheepish look and bent down again to wash his hands off. Then he leaned over the blond again. He was painfully hard. He wanted Wolfram but was confused about how to go about it.

The door to the baths opened and then closed with a loud thud. At the sight of a silhouette appearing in the baths, Yuuri leaned away from Wolfram. With the towel Yuuri had discarded earlier Wolfram covered his limp manhood. 

The sight of his flushed, half-seated brother and the shifty king made Gwendal stop in his tracks. He cleared his throat then turned around and headed back to the door.

“You could have locked the door,” he muttered accusingly.

“There’s no lock,” Wolfram informed him.

“Then just do that in your chambers,” Gwendal grunted, discontent, and then shut the door.

Embarrassed to his bones and feeling incredibly awkward, Yuuri stared at the closed door. Then he looked back at Wolfram, who had flopped down back onto the bench. The realization of what he had done hit him full force, and the king’s face turned so red that even his ears shone like embers. The blond was staring up at him with an amused and questioning look, and Yuuri suddenly wasn’t able to handle it. He stood up, grabbed his clothes and, with an awkward gait caused by his disappearing erection, left the baths.

Openmouthed, Wolfram raised himself on his elbows then sat up. A ball of painful regret and betrayal settled in his chest. He had known that this was a bad idea. Yuuri was going to pretend that nothing had ever happened. He had known it would end like this but it wasn’t making it any easier. He cursed loudly.

The sound of the door opening made Wolfram look up in its direction. Slowly, Yuuri entered. From that far away Wolfram wasn’t able to see his face but he had a feeling that the king was still blushing like mad.

“Did you forget something?” Wolfram asked, his voice dripping with venom.

Yuuri was tempted to answer something about his boots by the bench but contented himself by shaking his head. He wished Wolfram could understand how troubled he was. He approached the blond and sat down on the bench next to him. He was mostly dressed already, only his jacket unbuttoned and his feet bare. Wolfram couldn’t help glancing down between the king’s legs – he was down.

“Well?” Wolfram prodded.

“I’m very sorry. I don’t know why I ran away. It was somehow…overwhelming.”

Wolfram rolled his eyes. How selfish. Had it ever occurred to Yuuri that he had been as overwhelmed or maybe even more?

TBC


End file.
